E1
by EmmyLovett
Summary: When a Spanish Club mogul moves his flagship club to Canley after fleeing Spain, can the team prove he's not quite as smooth as his image suggests? Grace/Neil. Stevie/Smithy. Rated T.
1. Here We Go Again

_Hey - it's been a while!  
Basically, I've liked the way Neil and Grace's relationship has been written out so far on The Bill, so decided that I wanted to have a go at writing something that focused on the two of them (and also possibly later Stevie and Smithy, but hold that thought!). It's also inspired by two of my managers at work who can't decide if they can be civil to each other, or whether they hate each other. I ought to explain the name too... I know__ suggests a school fic, however it's not, it's what Neil and Grace's relationship struck me as before they got together, and it's also where I feel like I work when I walk into the stockroom to find my bosses arguing, only to be laughing and joking ten minutes later ;) _

_Anyway - I'm currently working on Chapter Three, but would really appriciate some feedback so I know what people think so far... and if they have any burning ideas... So here goes :) Hope you enjoy it! _

* * *

**The Playground**

**_CHAPTER I_**

"No way." Neil Manson said firmly, for the third time. His left hand was clamped firmly to his hip, and his right propped him up on the desk. "It's not happening. I'm not saying no just for her, but everyone. We're already stretched, I can't afford to lose any one of my officers for some… wild goose chase." He shook his head resolutely, and strained his eyes to see through the silver slatted blind that covered his boss' window. "I mean, just look at her Sir, she's our best officer by a million miles – we lose her… and… an'…" Neil couldn't finish the sentence so instead, he motioned towards the slim brunette tapping away at her keyboard, ignoring the chaos around her: files were strewn all over the desks, boxes were piled high against the walls, and Mickey and Terry were amusing themselves, lobbing a flat football back and forth across the room. 'God knows where they picked that up,' Neil sighed to himself; watching it whizz across the office, just centimetres above all the computers and paper trays, wincing as it did so.

"I can't think of anyone better suited for the job." Jack Meadows said, lines furrowing deep in his forehead. Neil stopped his thoughts in their erratic tracks, Jack had a point, there was no one better suited to the job, but he wished there was.

"But… Sir, you can't…" Neil found himself at a loss for words. He motioned at the room next to the office he was in. "No. Just no."

"Unfortunately Neil, you don't make the rules around here, and unless you can come up with a legitimate reason why I can't put Grace undercover, then you're going to have to accept the very real possibility that she will be doing some… _surveillance_ for us." Jack paused looking at the dejected face of his Inspector. "We're running out of other alternatives." Neil slumped, his shoulders rounded and low. He looked at the whiteboards in the next room. They were plastered with photos, decorated with many arrows; the last of the white space was covered with text so small it was virtually impossible to read close up, let alone from his vantage point. As if there wasn't enough information already depicted on the board, multi-coloured 'Post-It' notes were dotted around in patches, noting out the latest developments on the case.

"There's no other option is there?" Neil asked hopelessly. He knew the answer before he spoke the question.

"You know I wouldn't contemplate it if there was, Neil." Jack sighed. Neil turned towards his superior, and as if the silvery stubble, and unkempt shirt didn't give him away, noted for the first time, his greying skin, and the puffy purple semi circles under his eyes. He looked just as tired, just as resigned and just as frustrated as Neil felt inside. "If it's any consolation, I was going to ask you if you'd mind acting as her handling officer. That way you can keep an eye on what's going on – you have some degree of influence over what we do, and when we do it." Jack paused, and looked Neil up and down. "Plus, I need my best team on board for this – this is as high profile as cases come, and I need to trust who I chose to work with on it. No flying solo, no heroics – I know I can trust you two with that."

Neil nodded, allowing himself to smile slightly, his ego inflating slightly. It was some kind of happy medium - Neil recognised that whilst he was working so closely on the case, he'd have a lot of say over what did, and moreover didn't happen. That was better than sitting in his office and signing off the paperwork whilst Max waded through in his clumsy sixe eleven's. Neil turned back to the window just in time to see the deflated football race towards Mickey's head, forcing him to duck against the nearest desk dramatically, before it hit a stray box of loose paper, knocking it to the floor, allowing hundreds of official looking white documents to spew from it's mouth. He closed his eyes and groaned knowing that box was due to be sent down to the filing room that afternoon now that the corresponding court case had just been heard.

-*x*x*x*-

"We've been given reason to believe that this club…" Sergeant Dale Smith hit the interactive whiteboard with the electronic pen in his hand. "…E-1, is using it's bar girls for… extra income, if you know where I'm comin' from…" A few of the team before the Inspector laughed dryly. "It's a relatively new club to hit London, but it's got a whole load of history propping it up in Spain " He paused, allowing the information he'd just thrown at his team to sink in. "This man: Diego Ruiz Gonzales, thirty-nine, is the owner. He's also wanted from crimes he's suspected of committing in Spain." The room at large stopped the low level muttering to take in the appearance of this man. His shiny black hair was slicked back from his podgy face, revealing two large studs in either of his ears. Around his neck, not only did purplish-red veins protrude from his olive skin, he wore a large gold chain, below which the buttons on his black shirt strained from his generous girth. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows revealing an ugly black tattoo "And this woman, appears from initial OBBO's to be his partner. Her name is Eloisa Vigo Lopez, she's twen'y-four and related – albeit very distantly – to the Spanish Monarchy." A second picture popped up on the screen, this time of a striking woman with model like proportions. Her long brunette hair was loosely curled and fell to her waist. She wore red lipstick, which made her teeth look unnaturally white. Several of the officers had to remind themselves that they probably were. She was dressed in a tight black satin shift dress that accentuated her sizable bosom, hugged her minute waist, and finished just below the knee. Her shoes, several of the more fashion conscious female officers in the room noted, were - of course - the summers' black patent three-inch Louboutin heels with their glossy red soles flicked up at the camera as the young woman posed for the camera.

-*x*x*x*-

"Grace, my office in five." Neil said after walking from Jack's office into CID. He turned his head briefly, just in time to see Jack with his fingers prizing open the slats of the blind, his grey eyes observing the room at large. Grace looked up from the computer screen and nodded silently wondering what she'd done wrong now. Neil turned his attention back to Grace and for a split second saw confusion, and to his horror, hurt within her hazel eyes. Thinking now, Neil wondered how he knew their colour. He'd never been aware of looking, it was just something he'd always been aware of; something he'd always known. He sighed inwardly, wanting to correct his abruptness, but truth be told, more now than ever he found himself unable to address her in any other way and still remain professional. "Mickey, Terry clean up those papers –" Neil pointed to the floor that was now both the dull blue of the cheap carpet and white of the paper. "I want them in date order within the case and once you've done that, you can go and archive them." The two groaned simultaneously, and Terry dropped the flat football in the bin next to Grace's desk. Neil found himself scolding himself once more – this barrier that was between him and his colleagues had always been apparent, but since Jake had been ill, he'd found it even harder to allow himself to reign in his brusqueness. The double doors into CID opened and Banksy appeared, struggling with at least half a dozen case files he'd just retrieved. Grace jumped up from her chair to relieve several from his buckling arms. He muttered his gratitude and smiled towards her as she dropped them on her desk, opening the one on top and rummaging through it already knowing exactly what she was looking for with no direction from any of the other officers. As Banksy made his way to his desk he gave a look of deep concern to his Inspector.

"O.K?" He mouthed turning his back to the room. Neil nodded, attempted a slightly lop sided smile. Banksy was the only person who knew about Jake, and happened to know that he'd stayed with his son the past night, and left early that morning. Neil didn't hang around in CID, but instead retreated to his office and sunk into his chair, head in his hands.

Throughout his time at Sun Hill, Neil had never known resources be spread so thin. Admittedly, it seemed to help the team work well together on the good days, but inevitably, the closer they worked and the more hours they spent in each other's company, the more often he found them irritable towards each other, and not only that, but him grumbling at them. He knew he'd never been one of those managers you pop into see whilst on the way to the photocopier, or to invite for REF's down in the canteen, or even better one of the local coffee shops, but he dreaded to think just what the team thought of him right now. He knew that something had to be done to change this, but the way things were going; he didn't see the MET being able to finance any more officers any time soon. Neil made a mental note to investigate team-building exercises. His train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door, and subconsciously, Neil raised his hand to his red tie and straightened it before running his other hand through his hair.

It was only after he realised what he'd done.

-*x*x*x*-

"CID have had Diego on their radar for sometime –" A few of the uniform members scoffed, raising their eyebrows and muttering lowly to one and other. "A'right! Shut up!" Dale effortlessly regained control of the troops, raising his own voice above theirs. "I'm going to hand you over to DS Moss who will be able to tell you more, and inform you of your roles in the case!" Smithy stepped to the side and rested against a disused table that had been pushed to the side of the room.

Stevie took to the centre of the room, a large file in one hand, and some rough notes in the other. She ran her index finger down her notes, chewing on her lip as she went. She cleared her throat before addressing the room at large. "In June 2008, Eloisa moved back to Spain after spending four years in The States whilst studying at Yale. Instead of putting her first class honours degree to good use, Eloisa is bitter about her royal status, so decides to rebel. By posing for lads mags." Some of the younger, male, officers in the room wolf whistled, much to the disgrace of the females, all of who passed dirty looks to one and other. "The monarchy respond by cutting her off; and it would appear that porn doesn't pay," Stevie muttered dryly. "So our little Princess moves to the Costa Brava where she can spend royal money on round the clock partying and boozing. It's now she meets mogul and bad boy – what better way to get noticed by your folks – Diego Ruiz Gonzales." Stevie turns her back on her audience and taps on the interactive whiteboard several times. A timeline pops up depicting Eloisa and Diego's movement until February 2009. "It's worth remembering that Diego himself is a sort of… sordid "monarch" within club-land. In February '09, Diego and Eloisa move in together and organise a tacky magazine shoot within their luxury villa. Lavish is not the word." Again, Stevie taps the pen against the board, and several pictures of the magazine shoot pop up. Think fake tanning, label whoring, and gold overkilling, and you're someway to imagining the disaster staring back at the relief. "As if this isn't enough, to go with it, the couple open their first joint venture: a club, which within three months is under police investigation, all be it an investigation which is eventually thrown out for lack of evidence. It appears that the damage had been done though, as the club closed at the end of the month." Stevie paused to gasp for some much needed oxygen, whilst allowing the interactive whiteboard to catch up with her break-neck speed speech. "From Eloisa's point of view, I remind you this is _good_, this is _exactly_ what she wants. Negative publicity – she's really showing her folks how much she 'hates' – term used lightly – being a Princess. It's showing the whole of Spain, very publically, how she doesn't care, how she feels trapped by the Spanish Monarchy and how she wants to forge her own path; however misguided the path she chooses turns out to be."

"How's any of this relevant to us?" Nate asked, taking his chance to voice his nonchalant attitude whilst Stevie had stopped for breath.

"Well," Stevie tapped on the whiteboard several times allowing dates sporadically placed between August 2009 and February 2010. "After the club in Southern Spain closes, Diego is spotted with numerous other women, some more notable on the reality TV scene others no more or less significant than your average twenty year old. Eloisa is devastated – and humiliated – and so attempts suicide by taking twelve Benzodiazepine pills." A few of the relief gasped and raised their eyebrows. "Somehow, she survived – she was found quickly, and being royalty she was treated quickly, by the best doctors in the country. She spends two weeks in hospital. The overdose is crucial information to us though, it shows us she's fragile, that she's vulnerable – this wasn't done a year ago – you don't get over an attempt at suicide that quickly. She'll still be raw." Stevie pauses and flicks through her notes before looking up to her captive audience. "Am I making this interesting enough for you PC Roberts?" She asked, her thick with torment after seeing him with his eyes shut and his hands behind his head. Nate jumped with a start. "Do you want more colours? Flashing lights maybe? Pictures?" A few of the relief sniggered. Stevie glanced up to Smithy to check he didn't think she'd gone overboard. He to had the slightest trace of a smile playing on his lips. Stevie turned her attention back to Nate and noticed he at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.

"Sorry Sarge." He muttered his eyes trained to the floor.

-*x*x*x*-

"Come in!" Neil called straightening himself up within his chair. Grace took several, tentative steps into the room, staying within an arms reach of the door. She put her hands behind her back and looked at her feet, expecting an almighty telling off, for something she didn't yet know she'd done. "Take a seat." Neil offered the chair in front of his desk with a flourish of his hand.

"Guv…" Grace attempted a half smile and continued are slightly awkward, apprehensive shuffle towards the seat. She sat down, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind her ear, withering slightly under Neil's gaze. She reset her eyes towards the blue carpet, struggling to figure Neil's expression out. It didn't surprise her though, all too often recently, she had found herself incapable of deciphering his body language. He wasn't wearing his usual hard scowl – she had begun to think his face was set like that, but it appeared not. Instead, within his eyes, she was a certain level of… fear? Regret maybe? She couldn't help but wonder what had happened, and what she was about to be told. "Sir?" She prompted him, watching with surprise as he jumped at the sound of her voice "Is everything alright?" It was a question she already knew the answer of, but words failed her.

"Well…" Neil didn't know where to start. He turned his computer screen around so Grace could see the image on the monitor. "You know who this is, yes?"

"Of course I do!" Grace replied, thinking how insulted she'd be, if she didn't realise something serious was up. "Diego Ruiz Gonzales, thirty-nine, six-three… IC2 male." After spending weeks staring at his mug shot, Grace suspected she'd recognise him anywhere.

"Well just so happens he has a job going at the club in docklands." Neil said after rotating the computer screen back towards him. Grace noted how he seemed in no hurry to enlighten her.

"Great…"

"And… and… Stevie's going to apply for the job..."

-*x*x*x*-

Stevie picked up effortlessly from where she left off, keeping her eyes on Nate. "This is where you come into things." She said, her hand flourishing at her audience. "A high police presence is going to be required in the area, and whilst we don't want Diego and Eloisa suspecting anything, we want them to know that you're around. If you get a chance to strike up conversation, then claim you're just figuring the new place, ensuring there are no teething problems with the punters. Nothing more, nothing less. Unless you're given specific orders, you are not to enter the club, or spend a great deal of time there, drive past, have a look, drive on." She paused, hoping that uniform realised that it was imperative that they didn't get too close. "We're still gathering intel – we don't need anyone screwing things up this early on. It won't be long before the press are all over this, and right now, the last thing we need is more bad press." Uniform appeared to be drinking in the information, as each nodded, their eyes trill trained to the front. "I've got packs here for all of you to read up on what we have on Diego, Eloisa and club so far." She produced some heavy looking bound books, and handed several to each of the front row officers to hand back.

"At one point or another, each and every one of you might well be working on the case in some capacity – you all have to know exactly where we are at all times." Smithy interjected sternly, knowing that one or two of his crew would be liable to go home and stow the book away.

"Thanks, that's all." Stevie smiled, flicking the projector off, and stepping to the side, allowing Smithy to take centre stage once more.

"Ok, today," Dale paused to inspect the piece of tatty looking paper that the relief knew to be the day's rota. "Nate, Ben, you're in the Area Car." Smithy paused as the two men high fived over Kirsty's head. "Leon and Kirsty there's been a burglary on the Cole Lane over night so I'd like you to deal with that, everyone else is answering calls as they come in and completing paperwork until they do." Smithy put down the piece of paper on the desk behind him. "Any questions…" The room remained silent. "Off you go." The officers all filed from the room chattering loudly, leaving Stevie and Dale in the meetings room, clearing up each of the props they'd used.

"I take it the case is movin' quick?" Smithy asked, turning towards Stevie once all the chairs had been stacked at the side of the room. He leant against the wall whilst Stevie assembled her many pieces of paper.

"Yeah – it's taken it has time to get to this stage, but the past week's been manic. I've never done so much over time in space of five days!"

"Never been in on time so frequently either, I here!" Smithy quipped playfully, grinning from ear to ear as Stevie batted him with her notes.

"Leave it out!" She laughed in response, struggling open the door, her arms full. Smithy jumped to her side from behind and swung it open, holding it open with his foot allowing her to move through. "Thanks! I'll see ya around." Stevie smiled, heading right towards CID, whilst Dale headed left towards his office.


	2. Excuses

_Ahh :( Sad times!  
I can't believe it's over - although I think it was finished in such a classy way! (Bless Grace and Neil holding hands during the press conference... and then Mickey nudging Bansky!) Ok, so I've still not finished mourning the loss of The Bill, but I had to stick to a promise I made to a few people and upload chapter two! I hope it creates as much good feeling as the first chapter did. Thank you so much to my five reviewees: DivaShell, Firebird, Catty, PCJal and BrokenInside. It was nice to hear what you guys all had to say!_

Enjoy :')

* * *

**_The Playground_**

**_CHAPTER II_**

"You did _what_?" Jack spluttered, putting down his mug of coffee before he dropped it. He didn't say anything for several minutes, merely staring, open mouthed at his Inspector who was stood before him, hands behind his back, head bowed and eyes glued to the carpet with unmistakeable guilt written all over his features. "I specifically said no flying solo, and no heroics, Neil. You of all people should know that when I say something like that, I damn well mean it!" Jack's voice was nothing more than a low Yorkshire rumble. The only time Neil had seen Jack like this was when he found out Zain Nadir had played a part in covering up Honey Harman's murder, and was seeing drugs Baroness Kristen Shaw. He never thought he'd be able to put himself in the same class as the former Detective Constable. It wasn't something he was proud of either.

"Sir, I honestly didn't plan it – I just said it without thinking. But it makes sense. Realistically, why would someone like Gonzales have a woman like Grace working for him? I mean that with respect, but he's more likely to go for Stevie, so if we use her, we have a higher chance of infiltration. She's young and blonde. What more do men like Gonzales want? We need the brains here…" Neil paused replaying what he'd just said in his head. "I'm not saying Grace is attractive enough…" Secretly Neil admitted to himself that he thought quite the opposite, however he wasn't about to confess to that. "And I'm not saying that Stevie isn't intelligent enough. I just think that this way makes more sense." Neil glanced up to see Jack staring hard at him, his face now puce, his eyebrows furrowed together leaving deep creases in his forehead.

"I don't care what you think right now DI Manson." He snapped, working hard to keep the volume at a reasonable level. He didn't want the whole of CID hearing, however both parties wondered if it was too late for this. Neil realised that his attempts to placate his boss had been in vain. "I would expect this from… Max, and wouldn't have been surprised if five years ago Phil Hunter had turned around and told me what you just have. But I thought I could trust you Neil. I expect more of you." Jack paused and shook his head. "Just… just get out whilst I try sort this mess out." Neil wasn't about to argue – he heard the venom in Jack's word's loud and clear. He left the office and headed straight for his own, unable to stop himself slamming the door in frustration – and as juvenile as he knew his actions were, the crisp thump the door made as it closed satisfied him immensely.

Neil sat down, rubbing his temples hard before resting his head on the desk. Just what had he been thinking? He knew that he was supposed to have told Grace that she was the one to go undercover; he'd understood Jack's orders, and he'd seen Jack's logic… well, sort of. But he hadn't been able to go through with it. His mouth had frozen when he realised he had to tell her, and instead some bright spark in his brain told him to say it was Stevie that was required undercover. It wasn't that he didn't trust Grace – quite the opposite, he trusted her implicitly with any and every case that was thrown Sun Hill's way; and it wasn't that he didn't think she was young enough, even though it happened that Stevie was younger; and it definitely wasn't that he didn't think she was attractive enough. Somehow, Neil just had a gut feeling that for some reason, Stevie would be able to push Gonzales buttons in just the right way to squeeze a result in what looked to be an impossible situation. Grace had an amazingly intuitive mind, and truth be told, Neil was worried that his team would miss something if she wasn't at the station – she really did deserve her doctorate in Criminology. Sometimes Neil wondered why she was the Constable and he the Inspector.

On a more personal level, having Grace around the station, and knowing she wasn't being flaunted in front of punters meant that he knew she was well out of harms way. Not that he wanted Stevie in harms way, he just had another of these feeling she would be better equipped to deal with leering, drunk perverts she was bound to encounter. Providing she got the job that is.

Neil lifted his head from the desk at a knock on his door to see Grace standing behind the venetian blind. He waved her in and tried to make himself look like he'd been busy. He reached for several piles in his out tray. Grace didn't need to know this was all completed paperwork he was 'signing' off.

"Guv." She smiled tentatively and took a seat without being invited. "Are you ok?" She asked. "We heard your exchange with DCI Meadows." She elaborated, motioning to herself and some invisible people – Neil assumed to be Mickey, Terry and Bansky who he could see 'hard' at work. Translated into waiting on tenterhooks for Grace to get back with the latest gossip. Neil looked up from his desk, surprised, he hadn't realised he and Jack had been that loud. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Neil asked, intentionally playing dumb.

"That it was supposed to be me going undercover?" Grace asked quietly. Neil didn't know what to say. Grace noted his signature already on the files before him and wondered what he'd _really_ been doing before she came in.

"Yeah. It is." Neither officer said anything for a while. Grace crossed and uncrossed her legs a few times, and Neil took to rolling a black biro between his fingers. Several times Grace made to say something, however each time appeared to think better of it. "It's not because I don't think you're capable." Neil said, breaking the silence.

"Right."

"But I think you'd be better here..." Neil continued to explain his reasoning as he had to Meadows', but was sure to word his thoughts with tact. He mentioned her Doctorate from Oxford and her intuition, which he regarded as second to none and the fact that she was considered an integral part in CID's cogs. Grace looked at him with intent, smiling and nodding a few times. She was flattered, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was an ulterior motive to Neil's 'accidental' action. It didn't take a genius to work out that Stevie was younger, bubblier and more attractive. She had a way with the men, and seemed to be able to charm her way to anything. Grace felt lacked that skill , and whilst logic usually got you just as far, in this case it didn't, and even though generally it would bother her, Grace wanted a chance to prove herself in front of her Inspector. She didn't know why, but she wanted to show him just what she was capable of.

"Right." Grace repeated. She was careful not to say too much in case the tightness that was strangling her from the throat upwards became apparent. "I see. Thanks Guv." Grace started to stand up, but Neil interrupted her movement.

"Grace, sit down." He said, his tone authoritative. "I need to make it clear to you, that I'm not throwing you off the case – far from it. The way things, are going I wouldn't be surprised if you were made SIO – I've really hacked off Meadows…" Grace smirked slightly, the argument between the two men replaying in her mind.

"Terry said something about it being like when you started here again." Grace mused. "But… I didn't know what he meant? Did you and the Super not get off on the right start?" She asked inquisitively.

"Uhhm… well, you could say that." Neil smiled, reminiscing. "He thought I was bent – I ended up in prison for a while." Neil spoke this as if it was the kind of run of the mill thing that happened to everyone. If anything this only increased Grace's horror. "And… never mind…" Neil thought better of adding his last thought. Grace's mouth had dropped; her eyes were bulging from her head at the information he'd divulged.

"You what?" She echoed, shaking her head. "Our Inspector – a washed out 80's Raver and conductor of illicit Dealings whilst in the MET." She grinned, shaking her head. "Whatever next, huh?"

"I was cleared of them!" Neil laughed jumping to his defence. Grace brushed her hair from her face in a simple quick flick of her hand and smiled right back at her superior.

"What were you going to add – or is it too much for me to handle?" Grace grinned, sitting down again, intrigued. Neil shifted uncomfortably.

"Meadows thought I was a, uhm…" He paused, feeling a hot flush creep up his chest, past his shirt collar where it settled on his cheeks. He suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"It can't have been that bad!" Grace said supportively. "Forget it anyway, I have work I need to do." She smiled at Neil and stood up, sensing his reluctance . It was now she realised just how long she'd been in his office. It also struck her how much she'd enjoyed his company and how easy it has been to talk to him. There had been no crazy mood swings, no shouting and no belittling – for the first time in months she'd known exactly where she stood when talking to Neil. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, Grace thought to herself.

"He thought I was sexist." Neil said, just as Grace pressed her hand on the chrome door handle. Grace turned, not hiding her surprise that Neil had spoken, let alone, at what he'd said. "And he thought I was a womaniser." 'There, I've said it,' Neil thought to himself, swallowing hard, waiting for the look of disgust and judgement to wash over Grace's features. It never came however neither said anything. Grace realised she had work to do, and with the mess Neil had landed himself in with Jack, she assumed he did too. She glanced at the clock.

"I'm due REF's in half an hour… maybe we could grab a coffee?" Grace asked. Whilst she wanted to know more, she had a feeling that Neil maybe wanted to tell her more too – the elated look on his face gave him a way a little too.

"Sounds like a plan." He smiled. "I'll see you in a bit." It had only been earlier on that day Neil had found himself wishing he was included in impromptu trips to the local coffee shop, or asked to discuss a case over lunch instead of within the bland, formal walls of the station.

Neil turned his attention back to his desk, but only for a second or two, before his eyes focused their attention on following Grace across CID towards her desk. Mickey and Terry both stopped their work and swivelled their chairs to face Grace. Terry put his feet up on Grace's desk, whilst Mickey rolled himself so he was sitting next to her. Bansky also looked up from the computer screen, however unlike his peers managed to look only semi-interested. He could see by the animated look on Terry and Mickey's faces in particular they were hoping for the dirt to be spread. Banksy, Neil knew, wouldn't say 'no' to a bit of dirt either – even if he was more likely to take it with a pinch of salt. Grace however looked to be having none of it, for her attention was trained towards the computer, and other than the occasional roll of the eyes or slight trace of a smile; she didn't appear to give them any ammunition.

Neil opened his email, thinking that half an hour would pass quickly if he was replying to emails. He watched as twenty emails poured into the system, half of them seeming to be spam or monthly MET circulars that he didn't believe anyone read. There was one however that caught his attention. It had been Grace's idea to try and get hold of the SIO from the investigation on Diego and Eloisa whilst they were in Newquay, and it had been a good one – one that he'd made sure to follow up immediately. His research into the case had lead to a DI James Tanner. Double clicking on the email from said Detective Inspector, Neil was surprised to see two attachments. He read through the email:

_Neil,_

_Thanks for the email; I've attached some of the notes you might not find on the system - I hope they help! It's nice to know someone is picking up from where we left off, I wouldn't have been surprised if Eloisa and Diego had fallen off our radar all together! _

_Unfortunately we weren't able to get as far as we wished before someone scared the pair off, however I do have an officer who was working very closely to the case so if you believe it would help, we could look into having her spend a few weeks with you to assist your investigations. _

_James Tanner (DI)_

_Devon & Cornwall Police_

After reading the email, Neil sent the ten-paged attachment to print, and then the second smaller document just after on realising it was a profile of the officer who'd been volunteered to them. He saved the documents for later viewings should they be required and set about replying to James Tanner's email. The thought of having someone with prior knowledge of a case was always welcome, however he'd have to run it past the Superintendent before accepting or declining James Tanner's generous offer. The last thing he wanted was to give Jack even more reason to remove him from the case, or even the station.

After briefly scanning over the other email 'Subject' lines – none of which grabbed his attention enough to open them, Neil decided to waste some time by flicking through the newly printed off booklet with an absent mind, scrawling down a few notes in the margins, but other wise not paying a whole lot of notice to what was written. There was a reason this couldn't be found on the database: it was full of rumours and unsubstantiated evidence written by a narrow minded officer who, surprise of surprises hadn't given them selves a by line. Neil hadn't realised anyone had entered the office, however he found the stapled pages being taken from his grasp. He looked up to see the Super glancing at it, his nose up turned.

"I just had it emailed through by the DI in Newquay. He seemed to think it might help our investigation because it's not on the database." Neil explained quickly.

"I tell you what, there's a bloody good reason why their case didn't get very far if this is what they were basing their theories on." Jack dropped the paper onto Neil's desk, obviously as unimpressed as the DI was. "D'you mind if I sit down?" Jack asked after several awkward seconds had rolled by.

"Sure, take a seat!" Neil blustered, pushing all the paper and files on his desk into a semi-respectable pile. "What can I do for you Sir?" He asked courteously, wondering if he was out of the metaphorical doghouse.

"Well, I've been thinking about your… proposition…" Jack paused. "And as much as I don't agree with the way you've handled the situation, I've decided that it makes a whole lot more sense than sending DC Dasari undercover. However…" Jack instantly wiped away the smile that was creeping onto Neil's face. "…If there are anymore attempts at flying solo, then you can say goodbye to this office. Do you understand?" Neil swallowed hard and nodded slowly.

"Sir. Yes I do. And I'm sorry. Like I said, it wasn't planned."

"Ok," Jack didn't smile, but waved his hand across his face dismissively. "Moving on from that…"

"Sir, in the email from DI Tanner, he offered one of his officers to help with the investigation." Neil interrupted, thinking that whilst he was in Jack's good books, he should make the most of it. "I know after what he supplied us with you must be wondering what this officer can do that we can't, but… it might be that extra bit of help we need to push us in the right direction. Apparently she worked on the case and was very attached to it." Neil flicked through the precarious pile he'd just created on his desk and pulled out a piece of paper with a photo and profile of the woman that had been volunteered to help them. "Detective Sergeant Allie Trewin, twenty-seven… uh… she qualified from Cambridge University in 2004 with a 2:1 in Politics, Psychology and Sociology." At this point Jack whistled lowly, impressed. Neil could see the cogs in Jack's brain whirring, his first impression being altered drastically. "She joined the force in September that year and passed her Sergeants exam in 2008 after doing four years in Uniform." Jack appeared to be pondering over the proposal carefully.

"Give her two weeks," Jack said bluntly "If she's useful we'll keep her, and if not…" Jack trailed off, believing Neil had got the idea. "Another thing, whilst I'm in here, I think it'd be a good idea if we had a dedicated group of officers working on this, both CID and uniform – any ideas?"

"Grace, Mickey, Smithy, Callum and… Allie? For now?" Neil suggested, taking time on his thoughts. "I don't know whether both Callum and Smithy will be able to shun their duties, but I'm sure that Jo can step up for the time being… it's quiet enough out on the streets for them to manage, surely?" Jack mulled the names over in silence, eventually deciding that they sounded like a good group of officers.

"Bansky. Get DC Banks in on this too please. I want everyone in the meetings room at… 1o'clock." Jack said after consulting his watch. "Ok?" Neil nodded to Jack's retreating back thinking he'd have to send email out, and ensure that the details were called out over the radio too; he didn't want another cock up. Right now however, he had something much more important to do. He glanced at the clock; it had been almost half an hour to the minute since Grace had left, and he could see her shrugging her cardigan on at her desk. Neil moved to the door, grabbing his jacket from the hook, and stepping into CID.

"Any questions, I'll be on my mobile – and Superintendent Meadows is in his office if it's urgent." Neil announced to the room at large. "DC Dasari… are you ready?" He waited for Grace, bracing himself for questions to be thrown at him by the 'firing squad'.

"Is there a problem?" Terry asked almost hopefully, looking up from studying his computer screen with interest.

"No, we're just going to visit…" Neil stopped, his brain ceasing to work under pressure. He noticed the three expectant faces staring back at him.

"Ryan Riggs – the rape victim from a few weeks ago?" Grace finished Neil's sentence effortlessly. "He's due in court tomorrow morning."

"We just wanted to see how he's holding up." Neil added, reminding himself to thank Grace later. It was a very legitimate reason – and not a bad idea either. He'd also have to remember to pop in and see the young man later on. Whilst DC's Perkins, Webb and Banks didn't look too believing of the reasoning, Grace and Neil didn't hang around for long enough to allow more questions to be asked.


	3. The Sisterhood

_Hey! Firstly I'm really sorry about the way this might be showing up on your screen, the editer on here wasn't working when I uploaded. Secondly thank you for all the lovely reviews: Panicxo, , Catty, FireBird, DiveShell and PCJal - they've all been amazing!  
I'm not really sure if I like this chapter, I think I was feeling slightly destructive after the last episode (which is when I wrote this!) However, before everyone starts panicking, nothing bad happens. At least nothing irrepairable!_

_I've written chapter four, so that is ready to post, but unfortunately, I'm back at school now, and already have under-estimated the work load I'd have this year (after a whole 3 days! Oops!), so there are no promises about when I'll upload next. But hopefully it won't be too long._

_Hope you all enjoy it :)_

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**_The Playground_**

_CHAPTER III_

Neil set down a black circular tray with two tall glass mugs on it, one with a pale brown liquid within it, the other filled with a richer looking substance. "There you go." Neil said, as he pushed the latte towards Grace before taking the mocha and setting it before himself.

"We've got a new Sergeant joining us from Newquay to help with the E-1 case." Neil commented after a silence had descended over the pair. It hadn't been his plan to start talking about work. He mused silently over what he had thought he and Grace would talk about; truth be told, he didn't know - other than his past indiscretions of course. It wasn't like they had masses in common, after all.

"Oh, right." Grace nodded, after taking a sip from her drink.

"Detective Sergeant Allie Trewin; she sounds like a pretty smart woman. She did a PPS degree at Cambridge…" Neil trailed off, seeing the vacant expression held in Grace's eyes. "Sorry…" He mumbled. "We didn't come here to talk about work." Grace smiled and shook her head.

"No, I should be the one apologising, Sir," Grace replied. "This Allie… she sounds like she'll be a useful addition to the team." Grace wondered whether she was feigning interest with enough conviction. Honestly, she didn't think anyone needed distracting by a new toy – she had faith in the team, some new hotshot detective couldn't help that much, could she? Grace looked up from her tablemat, where she was tracing an imaginary line around the outside of the illustration. She could see she hadn't fooled her superior; he merely raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing on the subject. The pair lapsed into a comfortable silence, each sipping from their coffees. Every now and then Neil was aware of Grace looking up at him, as if trying to size him up.

"You can ask me, you know." Neil said, startling Grace slightly, but prompting the question he knew she'd be dying to ask since they left the station. He suspected this was the only reason she agreed to have coffee with him. Grace laughed slightly – she was obviously completely transparent to him, she realised he'd seen straight through her twice in a matter of minutes. It scared her slightly to think what else he thought he knew about her.

"So… why did Meadows think you were sexist?" Grace asked tentatively, starting with the question she believed would be easier to hear the answer to. She couldn't have been more wrong.

"Well… I was." Neil answered simply; finding he didn't want to defend himself over something he knew was true. Over the years, whilst he'd never admitted so much to himself, a series of strong willed women who had worked in his CID had changed his mind – albeit slowly – when it came to the status of women. "He saw the way I treated them." Neil speculated, referring to how Jack had seen his sexist trait.

"And I guess that you were labelled a womaniser because of your attitude towards us… or them?" Grace asked, not sure why she corrected herself at the end. Yes, she suspected he'd changed, but it did explain a lot, especially when it came to how he treated her.

"If I wanted something, I usually got it one way or another." Neil shrugged, his words dripping with implicit meaning. Grace heard the message loud and clear; she looked up to see him staring shamefacedly in his lap, her features full of untold trouble. "I had an affair too." Neil added. "It's not something I'm proud of, but it's why Philippa and I split. But none of it helped when it came to the Super needing a label for me."

"Oh. Wow." Grace didn't say anything else, and whilst she could hear in Neil's voice that he wasn't proud of cheating on his ex-wife, and she could see it in his demeanour, she was beginning to feel an unreasonable level of disgust towards her Inspector. Whoever said The Sisterhood was dead clearly hadn't met the feminist within Grace.

"I'm not that person any more though, Grace." Neil said, imploring to Grace's good nature. Grace's eye widened slightly in surprise of what she was hearing.

"Right Guv." She said shortly, her voice tinged with sarcasm. She drained the dregs of her coffee before clutching for her bag at her feet.

"Wait. What does that mean?" Neil asked, perplexed.

"You really want to know?" Neil nodded, for the first time hearing a sharp edge to Grace's usually docile tone. "You think you've changed," Grace took a deep breath, as if summoning courage from deep within her. Neil braced himself for what he was about to hear. He had a feeling she wasn't about to sugar coat her words for his benefit. "And it sounds like you might have. A bit. But underneath you're still a nasty chauvinist." Neil winced slightly. Grace herself looked slightly shocked at what she'd said too. "You might be able to tell yourself it's something else, but it's not. Every time you talk to me, you look down your nose at me – you think I'll just drop everything for you so I can be at your beck and call whenever you require me to be. Be it looking through CCTV or needing someone to shed blame onto." Grace looked up from her lap to check the damage before she ploughed on, unsure where she was getting the guts for this outbreak. She suspected it was the product of months of discrimination. "Every time you say my name, I brace myself, willing myself to hold it together. I've had to teach myself not to take any notice of you… I never know whether I'm coming or going, if I'm making you happy, I'm annoying Max, and if – God forbid, I manage to do something to cut Max off my case, then sure enough, you'll be right behind me, picking up from where he left off." The emotion in Grace's voice had reached capacity; her words were shaky and said little louder than a whisper. Neil wondered what had happened to the easy-going chatty woman he'd had in his office little over an hour ago.

"I…" Neil didn't know what to say.

"It's fine, you don't have to say anything," Grace said coldly. She looked at her watch. "I guess I just needed you to know. Seeing as you didn't figure it out yourself. Anyway, we better be getting back."

"Yeah – I hear the boss is a bit of an ass." Neil said, hoping to pull a slight smile from Grace lips. It worked, and for a split second, her top lips curled upwards before she realised where she was, grabbed her bag and stalked out of the café. Neil sighed to himself, and raced to catch her up. By the time he did, Grace was already sat in the passenger seat of the car, head down. Silently, he sat in and turned the engine on. About to say something, he thought better of it when Grace flicked the radio on, turning it up a few notches in attempt to paper over the tension between the two of them.

'_What was I thinking?' _Grace scolded herself, closing her eyes. _'Who am I to lecture DI Manson on the way he treats me, and the way he lets Max treat me. It's not school, I can't just go running to whoever in the hope they make it better – let alone to the culprit. Well one of them. I can tell he's angry. His jaw is jutting out, his lips firmly closed – in fact so firmly closed I can see small lines forming in his slightly stubbly skin.' _Grace stopped, mid thought, and pulled her eyes away from her superior before she had to pull her mind out of the gutter, something she found herself doing increasingly when it came to the DI – even when he was having one of his 'moments' she couldn't help but letting her eyes glaze over in a vain attempt to believe that his obvious contempt towards her was actually his way of hiding deeper feeling. She couldn't help but smile slightly when she realised that these wishes alone were even more schoolgirl than telling tales._ 'It's just going to be even worse now. What happened to thinking before you speak, huh? I mean going for coffee was supposed to be a nice way to spend my break – I thought Manson wanted to talk. I didn't want to push him away. Well even further away.'_

Neil attempted to keep his eyes on the road, however he kept finding himself watching Grace out of one eye. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks sucked in allowing the bones to protrude out unnaturally. He could tell she was deep in thought. _'So then, she's noticed. But then why wouldn't she? It's not natural for someone's boss to treat her the way I do. And to have kidded myself that I'd changed. Fat chance. Old habits die hard, right? I can't believe I wanted to have the chance to spend my REF's somewhere other than my office. Because right now, those four walls would be welcome… Just goes to show where greed gets you. Teaches you to be happy with what you've got instead of wanting more… _

The drive back to the station went quickly – Neil decided that someone, somewhere was smiling down on them as they had sailed through every junction on a green light, a rare feat in anyone's book. Pulling up into the car park, Neil wished one of them would break the silence, but it didn't come until Grace had stepped out of the car.

"Thanks for the coffee, Guv." She said, more out of respect than anything else, before she made her, always several steps in front of Neil, into the station and back up to CID.

"How was Ryan, Guv?" Mickey asked as Neil walked into the room. Grace kept her head bowed and she moved in silence to her desk.

"Ryan?" Neil questioned, frowning.

"Ryan Riggs…" Mickey said in a tone that suggested an answer to an obvious question, catching Terry's eye as he spoke, allowing silent waves of worry to fly between them. The pair looked at Grace, wondering what had happened.

"Oh – he's doing just fine Mickey." Neil said, smiling falsely. The case had opened many old wounds for Mickey, but Neil had found that he'd been the most effective officer on the case by a long mile. "Which reminds me, Mickey, Jacob and Grace the Super has requested you in the incident room at one." Neil kept his eyes on Grace, but she made no attempt to acknowledge what had been asked of her. Mickey nodded his head, as over-enthusiastically as ever. Neil wondered where he got the energy.

-*x*x*x*-

Neil perched himself on a table in the incident room. Before him, five of the six officers he'd hand selected especially for the E-1 operation were sat down all looking expectantly towards him and Jack who were waiting for the final addition to the team. Jack glanced at his watch. Whilst his head was bowed to his wrist, a loud clattering as the double doors were forced open alerted him to Stevie's presence. She had several folders in her arms and looked slightly flustered as her foot got caught in a chair leg, causing her to stumble slightly. Mickey, laughed as she landed in the chair next to him.

"Thanks for joining us DS Moss." Jack said, raising an eyebrow, amused. Stevie merely grinned back, completely unfazed. This alone showed him that the young woman was more than capable of handling herself whilst undercover. He just hoped she accepted the challenge. "Right, DI Manson and I have spent some time discussing the E-1 case and we've decided that it would be useful to have a dedicated team working on it at all times. The dedicated team being you." Jack paused and flourished his hands as if revealing something he was particularly proud of. "As well as you all, we will be joined by DS Allie Trewin who, for those of you who are familiar with the case, will know was a prominent officer when Diego and Eloisa were operating in Newquay. She'll be joining us on Monday. Until then, between you all, you'll be going over everything we've already got on the pair, checking for anything that's been missed or anything that strikes you as particularly odd. I want everything: from finance records, to phone records. By the end of this case, you'll all know Diego and Eloisa as well as you know your family and friends. Do you understand?" A murmur of 'Yes Sir' and 'Sir' rippled around the room, along with slight nods of the head. A few of the officers continued to take notes. "You'll be operating from in here at all times and will be reporting to DI Manson, who along with DC Dasari will be acting jointly as SIO." Neil looked up, surprised that he was still the investigating officer. At the same time, he saw Grace's shoulders slump – presumably at the thought of working so closely with him. "Any questions, DI Manson will take you from here." With that, Jack made himself scarce from the incident room.

"Ok…" Neil didn't really know where to start. No one piped up with questions, at least not immediately.

"This Allie Trewin, Guv…" Mickey started, he cockney accent thick with even more cheek than usual. "What's she like?" The men in the room sniggered whilst Stevie batted Mickey around the head with a folder just within her reach. "Ow!" He groaned, glaring at the little blonde with narrowed eyes. He rubbed his head, Neil was sure just for effect.

"Young, blonde… intelligent… and definitely too good for you DC Webb." Neil replied curtly. "Too good for all of you." He added, as a warning to the others. Grace and Stevie laughed at the male species in the room, all of who had slunk low in their chairs. They caught each other's eye and shook their heads. Anything in a skirt, Grace sighed, whilst Stevie wondered whether it was just legs that did it for them. "Any _other _questions?"

"How are we working in here… when there is nothing?" Jacob asked, looking around.

"Superintendent Meadows is organising some laptops for you all, and the board with the case outline so far is being relocated." Neil replied, waiting for more questions. None came, so he wasted no time in wrapping up. "You've all been chosen because of your experience within the force, and also because of your ability to tow the line. I want no heroics, and no flying solo." Neil repeated the caution Jack had given him just hours earlier, hoping his was more successful than his superiors. "Along with that, you've been selected for discretion too – it's suspected that Gonzales was being fed inside information from someone in the force in Newquay – if I get wind of anyone supplying Intel – to anyone –, you can forget not only your job here, but your whole policing career. Do I make myself clear?" The team obviously heard the steely tone in Neil's voice, for they all nodded silently, looking like rabbits caught in headlights. "Good. I trust that no one will even consider anything like that, so let's just concentrate at the job in hand!" The gathered officers took this as their opportunity to disperse, all knowing something they had to do, be it gather case notes, or in Smithy and Callum's case get changed into their civvies. "Stevie, can I have a word please?" Neil said, realising he had to broach the subject of her going undercover. He allowed everyone else to file out of the room before closing the door.

"Guv, is there a problem?" She asked, sitting back down. Neil shook his head realising it wasn't going to be much easier to tell Stevie she had to go undercover rather than Grace.

"No, there's not." Neil reassured the pint-sized blonde. "But there is a vacancy that has just come up at Diego's club. Which has got Meadows' and I thinking…" Neil could tell by the recognition that had flashed through Stevie's eyes that she'd realised what she was about to be asked to do. "…If you think you're up to it, then we'd like you to apply for the position to see if we can infiltrate the club and find out just what is going on."

"Ok…" Stevie replied, dragging out each syllable. "What else will it entail?" She asked.

"Well, to start with, you'll be given a whole new identity, and a new flat. You'll be under twenty-four-hour surveillance and will have round the clock security should you need it. It goes without saying, in a situation like this there is no time limit, you could be saying goodbye to your life for a little as a week, maybe two – but equally it could be months." Neil paused, wondering what else he had to cover. "You don't have to give me an answer straight away, but I'd appreciate it if you could have a read through the application form for the job at E-1, and also the pack that we've put together which contains the details of your new identity." Neil had never found it easy asking an officer to go undercover, and the long silence that followed made him wonder whether she would even consider it at all. He hadn't said as much, but there was every chance that she would end up being one of the girls he tried to use for an extra income.

"Sure, Guv." Stevie said, straightening up, and brightening slightly.

"The folder is in my office, so if you'd like to come through," Neil lead Stevie out of the incident room, and towards his own office. "And then take the afternoon off to read it through and digest. I'd appreciate an answer first thing tomorrow so we can start to make plans one way or the other." Neil handed Stevie the bulky file, and turned to face her. "We'd understand completely if not – there's no pressure." He added earnestly. Stevie smiled, and looked down at the file.

"Thanks Guv." She said, hugging the black plastic close to her chest. "I'll see you in the morning then." Neil merely nodded and watched the small blonde make her way from the building before his attentions were turned to his team who were all busy moving furniture into the incident room. He hadn't realised that operating from there would require a full scale removal process.

Hope you enjoy it :)


	4. Choices

_Hey :) I thought I better upload this - for all the Stevie and Smithy lovers, and also so that nobody hates me too much for how I left things with Grace and Neil! Thanks to Firebird and PCJal for your reviews of chapter three! _

_Hope you enjoy it! I don't know what's coming in chapter five, but I'll get planning - any ideas, then drop me a review and I shall have a look over any suggestions :)_

_Em x_

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**_The Playground_**

_CHAPTER IV_

Stevie ran her fingers along the gold etching on her new passport, regarding the crest with newfound interest, noticing for the first time, the elaborate patterns that glinted in the artificial light from above her. She'd neglected to close the curtains that evening, having found herself too engrossed in learning about the woman she was to become. From her vantage point, between the small wooden rectangles that framed the small individual panes of glass in her floor to ceiling window, she could see the dramatic, albeit fragmented skyline that was dotted with skyscrapers, and most notably, those of Canary Wharf. She thought ahead a few weeks and couldn't help but wonder whether she'd be able to see her flat from E-1, a club she knew to exist somewhere under the splendour of the Canada Square buildings, and the gloss of Cabot Square.

She flipped open the passport to see her face staring back at her, blank and expressionless. The authenticity hologram changed from green, to gold to bronze. For a second Stevie wondered if there was anything the MET wasn't capable of producing – within the space of what she assumed would have been mere hours. Next to her head and portrait, Stevie drank in her new name and age, not for the first time.

"I am Erin Moss and I'm twen'y nine… twenty nine?" Stevie echoed, incredulous, looking at the passport photo. "Ha! You'll be lucky!" She laughed, running her thumb over an invisible wrinkle on the image. Stevie threw down her passport and ran her hands through her short blonde hair sighing deeply, wondering just what she'd got herself into. Providing she accepted of course, and even then only if she got the job. However with a CV like Erin's, Stevie found it difficult to see how she wouldn't.

The shrill buzzer that alerted her to someone's presence outside echoed through the high-ceilinged flat, pulling Stevie from her thoughts, making her jump slightly at the same time. She dropped her passport, and the wad of A4 papers, to go and answer the call. She looked at the small screen to see her Inspector standing in front of the communal door, and wondered what time it was. Stevie was surprised to see it was only 9.30. "Hey Smithy!" She said into the speaker, whilst pressing down on a button.

"Hey Stevie!" Smithy replied in a similarly upbeat tone, smiling towards the camera, whether he realised it was there or not. It was a recently new addition – the idea was, of course that no one knew it was there. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought that Smithy was pleased to hear her voice; although that'd be admitted to no one.

"I'll buzz you in." She added, pressing another button, which elicited a second high-pitched beep. Stevie padded over to the door, taking her time, knowing how long it took to climb the six stairs up to her flat. Smithy didn't have to knock before the door swung open, making him topple over slightly, one hand raised to what was now thin air.

"A'right!" He grinned cheekily, stepping in and producing a bottle of red wine from a bag Stevie hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Ah, what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked, stepping to one side and allowing Smithy to cross the threshold in as she studied the label on the bottle intently.

"You left kinda quickly. You were in Manson's briefing, and then… you weren't." Smithy explained. "Just thought I'd pop in on me way back." Stevie's eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"You've only just finished?" She asked, re-consulting her watch, wondering if she'd read it wrong. She hadn't, it was indeed 9.30pm. "And… this isn't on your way home, you filthy liar!" She grinned from beneath her lashes, indicating for Smithy to take a seat whilst she retrieved some wine glasses from her kitchen.

"The life of an Inspector ain't all that y'ano!" Smithy laughed at her naivety. "Twelve hour shifts are all the rage at the minute you know! Everyone's doin' 'em!" Stevie snorted loudly as the cork popped from the slender neck of the bottle with a satisfying 'pop'. She reached for two large glasses, and returned to the lounge, setting down the bottle and two glasses on the coffee table. "An' as for poppin' in… call it taking the scenic route. I'm just a sucker for Greenwich at this time of night." Smithy winked at Stevie as she handed him a full glass of the deep red merlot. "Thanks." He added.

Stevie sat back down, before taking a long sip from the glass. She wasn't a big wine drinker; and she was half surprised Smithy hadn't brought around a six-pack, but tonight, the slightly fruity flavoured wine was just what she realised she needed. She found herself tilting her head back, revelling in the calming waves that were currently washing over her body.

"So what's the excuse for the half day?" Smithy asked, taking in Stevie's body language.

"I, uh, I dunno if I should tell you…" Stevie started, looking down at the documents splayed over the wooden top in front of them. Smithy's eyes followed her own, clocking the passport.

"On the run, are we Moss?" He asked playfully, his attention caught on the passport. Despite the heavy blanket of emotion Stevie felt was partially suffocating her, she was able to laugh, something she found to be the most natural action in the world when she was around her superior. She ran her thumb and index finger along the stem of the glass and sighed.

"I wish." She replied wistfully. "Manson's asked me to go undercover." The look of horror on Smithy's face would have been priceless, and usually Stevie would have shredded him to pieces for it, but she found herself unequivocally touched by his immediate reaction; it was one that didn't look guarded by reason, and one that he hadn't had time to reign in. "I know." She managed a half smile, but only for a split second. Smithy reached out and placed a hand over hers and squeezed it tightly.

"Can I?" He asked quietly, his hand hovering over the documents. Stevie nodded silently, pulling her legs up underneath her. Matching Stevie's sudden muteness, Smithy opened the passport and studied it, before moving onto to the information booklet. He didn't appear to read any of it, merely scan over the basic details and requirements. "Erin… Erin Moss." Stevie noticed that whilst his cockney accent was still broad within Smithy's voice, it was much softer. Or maybe it was just he was quieter than she was used to him being. "'Erin has been waitressing since the age of sixteen when she fled from home after living with her mother and stepfather,'" Smithy paused, but Stevie kept her eyes firmly locked on him, watching how his finger followed the words he was reading off the page, and how when he came to a word or sentence he disliked the sound of, the corners of his eyes would crinkle slightly. "'The latter of whom physically and mentally assaulted her from the age of ten, with increasing intensity. Her mother died when she was just twelve, leaving her at violent hands of her step-dad…' It sounds like a fairytale gone wrong." He said, frowning slightly.

"Some fairytale, huh?" Stevie sighed, her shoulders dropping. "The undercover… I've been there done that, an' I can deal with it. It's the fact that I have to keep up this persona all the time." Smithy didn't say anything – Stevie wasn't even sure he'd heard her speak at all for his eyes were continually moving from left to right across the page.

"'Erin isn't against using her killer charm and flirtatious smile to get just what she wants, and has gained experience working in both restaurants and most notably Ronald's Gentleman's Club. As well as this, she has been cautioned by the police for soliciting, however this was five years ago, and has since fallen off the street radar.'" This time, Smithy put down the document, unable, and not wanting to read anymore.

"I'm scared, Smithy." Stevie admitted, her voice nothing more than a husky whisper. Startled, the Inspector looked to his right, and seeing Stevie curled up against the very edge of the sofa, with her sleeves pulled over her hands, and her hair flopping lazily over one of her eyes, tore at his heart strings, which admittedly were never very thick when it came to the small blonde. He shuffled along the leather settee and pulled her form into his arms and rested his chin on the crown of her head. It wasn't long before he felt her shaking softly within his tight grasp. "I'm… I'm sorry." She breathed, her warm breath tickling his arm. In reply, Smithy said nothing, and merely held her tighter.

For Smithy, whilst the entire experience wasn't a new one – he'd comforted enough victims of crime over the years to know the drill now – he felt as if he was in a completely different territory. He knew Stevie was only human, but he'd never seen her quite so vulnerable… or so… un-Stevie like. He should have known something was up when she clutched the wine bottle without turning her nose up and enquiring as to the whereabouts of the cans.

Stevie closed her eyes in attempt to stem the tears so alien to her. She concentrated on her breathing: in… and out. With every breath Smithy's cologne filled her lungs a little bit more, her mind now held hostage by a misty haze. Mentally, she found herself the cursing the man for his caring nature, rogue charm and inability to put a food wrong. Sheepishly, she pulled out of Dale's arms, glad not to be a blubbering mess, but wondering just why she was incapable of not allowing her mind to off track. So off track it was often totally lost in the vast realms of men's aftershave.

"I'm sorry." Stevie murmured again, smiling so that her tear filled eyes twinkled like silver coins.

"It's alright to be scared." Smithy said earnestly, looking down at Stevie, worried for her.

"But I remember what you went through with Wallace and his mates… and in comparison this is nothing. I'm not going to 'ave a gun waved in my face. I'm just gonna 'ave to whore around for some perverts."

"Where's the change there, 'ey Moss?" Smithy asked, his eyes sparkling playfully as he attempted to stop himself laughing, however his resolve was crushed when Stevie's mouth dropped open in disgust. For a split second, however, Dale thought he was in trouble, and he fought that cute lopsided grin of his, until, inevitably it took over his serious, slightly guilt ridden features.

"Oi!" Stevie gawped, her mouth still aghast even if it was twitching with the desire to smile, a proper Stevie Moss sized grin that was known so well.

-*x*x*x*-

Back at the station, two windows on the top floor glowed dimly. A window was open despite the impending night, and from the street below, the dull tap, tap, tap of a typist could be heard.

Grace stopped for a second, savouring the break from the repetitive noise of the keyboard. She took the time to glance at her watch. She couldn't quite believe it was 9.30, but at the same time, she felt no desire to leave just yet. The thought of an empty flat was never an inviting one – and even though she suspected the station was all but empty, she decided there was something serene about the place in the evening. It was just before the midnight rush of drunks were brought in, and when every now and then the jovial voices of uniform could be heard reverberating through the corridors. Grace scanned over the report she was writing and flicked through her notes before continuing.

In the next room, Neil was sat slumped over his desk, trying to get his head around the intricacies of the undercover. It amazed him that it had been allowed; there were still so many unknowns. He guessed that was what Stevie was going to be for. It was going to be like a massive game of hangman. Only he hoped everyone would get out alive.

Neil sighed, since when did you compare a case to some stupid game? It wasn't an analogy he usually aimed for. It was now he knew he had to get home, before he concluded with more dodgy game resemblances. Another night wasted in front of the TV, with a microwave meal for one. It was becoming something of a routine. Making a point of leaving the papers on his desk, Neil pulled his jacket on, and left his office, locking up before he turned to leave. It was doing this that alerted him to the light that had been left on in the Incident Room. Eco Warriors, his team were not.

Neil pushed open the door, intending on just flicking the light switch, however he was distracted by a body straining their eyes in the far corner of the room, engrossed completely in their work.

"DC Dasari?" Neil alerted the woman to his presence, and she jumped slightly on hearing his voice.

"Oh. Guv." Grace said, unable to mask her surprise. She looked away from her computer screen for a second, smiling slightly before she turned away again. "I… uh, I didn't realise anyone was still here." She added, not typing, but not making eye contact with her superior.

"I could have said the same." Neil remarked. "You should be getting home." He advised her, trying to ensure his words weren't overly commanding. "It's less than ten hours 'til your next shift." Grace didn't say anything. "DC Dasari?" Again, there was no response. "Grace – you've been here for fourteen hours. You need to go home." This time, despite losing the formalities, Neil's voice was more authoritative, which evoked an answer, finally.

"I… Ok. I'll be finished in a minute." She conceded, starting her intensely fast typing once more. Neil sighed and walked over to the desk at which Grace was working and pulled the laptop from her. "Neil!" For a second, Grace forgot where she was, overcome with indignation.

"Grace, this is an order. Go home." He said firmly, holding his hands up in a way that suggested there was no room for argument. He saved her work and closed down the laptop, ensuring that, like him, she left her work at work, where he concluded it should stay.

The pair walked through the station, encountering a few PC's all of whom muttered goodnight, no doubt miserable about the night shift ahead of them. By the time they got to the car park, the silence had been broken only by formalities work centric. Grace stopped by a black Mini Cooper, lingering as she twirled the keys on her finger.

"This is me, Sir." She said. "See you tomorrow." Neil stopped walking suddenly realising he was alone.

"Oh." He turned, and smiled at the officer. "Yeah, sure. See you in the morning." For a second he realised he'd been staring in her direction, his eyes unblinking as his mind went into overdrive. _'Say something, idiot. If you stand here gawping for much longer she'll wonder what's got into you! You've worked with her for years; pull yourself together! Oh for goodness sake! Get a grip! It's Grace – the faithful DC you could trust with anything. Just spit it out. In fact, scrap that; just spit anything out to stop the staring. And break that God awful silence.' _All failing, Neil turned on his heel and moved towards his car.

"And… Guv?" He paused only on hearing Grace's voice. She didn't elaborate until he turned around to face her. Her face was half shroud in darkness, the other half a warm amber hue from the streetlights. "I'm sorry about coffee." She said quietly. Neil was surprised, unsure just what she was apologising about. She'd reacted just as any woman should. With caution, and with disgust – and also, with reason. He hadn't treated her right for a long time, and actually, Neil had found himself repulsed by the thought that he could still act like that.

"No… Grace, DC Dasari…" Neil blustered slightly, but found himself compelled to walk towards her. "I should be the one apologising. I… it didn't occur to me that I was treating you the way I was, and I should have done. I know it's not much of an explanation, and I know it's not going to make it better." He noticed Grace's indifference: if she had accepted his mumbled request for forgiveness she certainly wasn't showing it.

"If that's all you have to say for yourself…"

"And… how about we try going for coffee again?" He added, without really thinking the words through. "Or maybe… a drink?" Again, the words flowed from Neil's mouth with no permission from his brain. _'It just gets even better. Idiot. Total, complete prize idiot. Why? What were you thinking? That's right, you weren't, not at all. Well that teaches you. Idiot. What's she going to think of you now – that you're sexist and socially retarded? Well she wouldn't be far wrong now, would she? All you have to do now is bang the last nail into that coffin of yours.' _

"What?" She asked, her voice quiet and raspy.

"I… forget it. It was unprofessional and I was out of place." Not for the first time, Grace mused. "I'll see you tomorrow DC Dasari." Neil sighed, however before he could get very far away, he was stopped, not only by Grace, but also by a spark in his mind. If he'd asked her out, he may as well hang around to hear her answer, even if it was destined to be rejection. Whilst his mind was still working at a hundred miles-an-hour, he realised that Grace had been talking. She had a slight… smile gracing her features, and he recognized that she looked really, genuinely happy.

"Yes – I mean, I'd love to." She said, still fiddling with her keys. Neil stood, rooted to the spot, dumbstruck. She'd actually agreed to this. Again. "Now I really will see you tomorrow, Sir. Night."


	5. Force To Be Reckoned With

_Hey :) First of all, I'm so so so sorry about the delay - I've had ridiculous amounts of school work and also proper work so it doesn't really feel like I've had a chance to breathe, let alone write. Unfortunately. Secondly, I'd like to apologise for the seriously short chapter. I've actually had this written for a couple of weeks but have been battling with myself to write more. Unfortunately I've just not had the time or the inspiration, so have finally decided that you guys would rather an update to... no update. I'm not about to make any promises about the next chapter, but hopefully it'll make up for this ones short comings!_

_Finally, I'd like to thank all my reviewees, Bookworm, BrokenInside, Jess, Catty, Holly, Firebird, DarknessDeadly and PCJal - you've all seriously brightened up days - it's lovely to get such awesome reviews! _

_Em x_

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_The Playground_

_CHAPTER V_

The next morning, Stevie woke to feeling the tendons in her neck pulsating, jarring against her movement. Instinctively she pressed her hand against her skin. She winced as she attempted to look around, a shooting pain rushing up the nape of her neck. Managing to adjust her eyes to the light that was streaming in from the windows, Stevie noticed the remnants of the previous night: an empty red wine bottle, and two empty glasses, each stained with a burgundy tinge. To her left sat Sergeant Smith, his head lolled to one side being supported by the arm of the sofa. His eyes were tight shut, and his mouth gaped open slightly, forming a small 'o' shape. Stevie grinned to herself, realising that she and Smithy had fallen victim to the Land of Nod little past 10.30, mid conversation, proving the lightweights that they really were!

"Oi!" Stevie hissed, after squinting at the clock. It was 6.15, and she wanted to be in work at 7, so she could give Manson the good news. Smithy stirred slightly next to her, but didn't wake. Shifting slightly, Stevie eased the cushion from behind her, lifting it above her, before bringing it crashing over Smithy's head. "Good morning." She sung chirpily.

"Ouch." Smithy muttered, scowling at Stevie and rubbing his head dramatically.

"It's quarter past six." Stevie informed him, wriggling off the sofa. Smithy merely grunted, his inner Neanderthal breaking free. Maybe he was the missing link, she thought, unable to stop herself grinning at the thought.

"Wha's funny?" Smithy enquired, his voice croaky. He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, before closing them for a few seconds.

"Ah…" Stevie nearly launched into explanation, but through better of it. Instead she shook her head, and danced off towards the kitchen.

"Do you ever stop Moss?" Smithy asked to her retreating back. He stood up slowly, stretching, before carrying to the two glasses and the bottle into the kitchen and placing it on the side. He leant his weight against the surface; gratefully clutching the glass of water Stevie had just run him. "Thanks." He added, smiling slightly, the action not quite reaching his eyes, beneath which grey semi circles graced his skin.

"Must'a been an interesting conversation we were having last night!" Stevie smiled, after taking a sip of water. Smithy laughed in agreement.

"Yeah!" Stevie suddenly realised that the sergeant was looking rather shifty. He moved his weight from one foot, and then the other, not once looking up at her, but keeping his eyes trained on the floor tiles. "I, uh, I'm sorry about that." He said eventually, motioning towards the lounge. He almost made eye contact with Stevie, but not quite.

"S'alright!" Stevie replied breezily, not fazed by their predicament at all. "It could have been worse. We could have woken up next to each other after more than a bottle of wine and bitching session!" She winked. Stevie noticed Smithy smile slightly. "How awkward would that'a been?" She asked rhetorically. "I can run us to work via yours if you want so you can get changed?"

"Yeah, uh, thanks." Smithy said, his voice emotionless.

"I'm gonna go get ready – you're more than welcome to use the shower. There are towels in the cupboard next to the bathroom." Stevie didn't wait for an answer, before she left the kitchen, wondering just what was wrong with Smithy. It could be worse, like she said; they could have woken up in a more intimate situation than propping each other up on the sofa. She wondered just what he reaction would have been then! As she was getting herself ready, she heard the shower turn on, followed by the pattering of water against the side of the bath and found herself sighing deeply.

It took the pair half an hour to get out the door, a sure record in Stevie's books. She drove to the station via Smithy's, the journey unpunctuated by conversation. They arrived at the station at 7.15, and no one seemed to notice them coming in late – Stevie wondered whether, on her part, it was because they were accustomed to her rolling in at whatever time suited her. However, people did notice the stony silence lying between the two officers who put to shame the word 'jovial'.

"Is everythin' alright?" Mickey asked, startling Stevie as he came up behind them on their ascent to CID.

"Yeah." Smithy replied, as Stevie nodded her head vigorously, not looking Mickey in the eye as she turned to face him for a brief second. Clattering through the double doors to CID, a few of the officers looked up and nodded to the trio, however others, namely Max, made no acknowledgment of them at all.

"Can I 'ave a word, Inspector?" Mickey asked, frowning, as his brotherly instincts kicked into play on the closest thing to a sister he'd ever had. Stevie took this as her cue to leave, and made her excuses, ducking into Neil's office.

"Oh." The inspector said, unable to hide his shock at the small blonde's ability to pop up without a seconds notice.

"Sorry Guv, I uh, knock, knock." She laughed to herself realising her error. Thankfully, Neil too laughed. Stevie found herself speculating why he was in such a chirpy mood. "I uh, just wanted to let you know that I'll be taking up your offer of the place on the undercover." She said quickly, upon hearing Neil clocking his pen open, and then closed. Neil said nothing for several seconds.

"And you've thought about this thoroughly I trust DS Moss?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. He placed his hands together, and set his gaze on her, unblinking.

"Yes Guv." She replied. "I might have let it slip to Inspector Smith though – he came around last night… an'italljustcamefallin'out." The speed at which she was speaking had increased beyond her usual breakneck pace and Neil found himself struggling to keep up. Stevie took a deep breath. "What I mean to say is, Smithy – Inspector Smith dropped by last night, and he saw the passport on the table, and I just sorta'… told him." She explained.

"Ok. Not to worry. Thanks for letting me know." Neil replied amiably, seemingly not fussed by what he'd just been told. Stevie double took, and looked around the office, trying to find any evidence that her boss had been done away with, and replaced with a doppelganger. "I'll repeat myself, Stevie, you have thought this through – no contact with your family, no contact with you friends, Inspector Smith…" Neil let the sentence hang.

"Oh – no. There's nothing going on there, Sir. Nothing at all." She corrected her superior quickly, finding herself blushing crimson at the thought. "Nothing. Just a good mate, that's all." Neil smiled, and nodded, unsurprised by Stevie's reaction, but unsure as to whether she was telling the whole truth. "And in answer to your worries Sir, I've thought it all through, an' anything I can do to help… well count me in." Stevie was glad to see that Neil seemed happy with her answer, rather than pressing her more. She was worried that with too much interrogation she would end up a crumpled mess as she had yesterday evening – and she wasn't sure she could deal with another person avoiding her like she was about to fall apart at any given second.

"Well then I'd like you to fill in the application form for the job, and I need it on my desk by lunch time at the latest." Neil said authoritatively.

"Guv."

"Thanks Stevie." Neil concluded. The young DS took this as her cue to leave, so she made her way into the incident room, where Smithy and Callum seemed to be deep in conversation whilst pouring over something on the laptop before them. It wasn't all that long ago that they could hardly spend more than two minutes in the same room without attempting to rip chunks from the other, however now, in stark contrast, they had been known to retire to the pub together and reflect on the day over a couple of pints, all aggression a million miles away. It was true, that every now and then, the power would get to one of their head's and their passion for the job would throw the new best buddies off course, but for the majority of the time, they were like new men. Stevie found it slightly endearing – whatever had been said or done between the two over the past few months, had obviously struck a cord somewhere; it was something of a blossoming bro-mance! She smiled to herself slightly and averted her gaze as Smithy looked up. On the opposite side of the room, Grace was busy on the phone, the receiver held in place by her shoulder, as her right hand was busy scribbling down some notes of a pad, and her left hand ran through her hair. Stevie couldn't help but notice how stressed she looked – tired even. Manson was known for his punishing shifts – Grace looked to be going that way too. Next to Grace, Mickey was talking at Banksy with his grubby trainers stuck up on the desk. Banksy, however, didn't appear to be paying much attention, for his head was stuck in a book, propped up by his arm as he sunk lower and lower in his chair.

As Stevie walked past her two colleagues she batted Mickey's feet off the desk and gave him a mock glare that her mother would have been proud of. "Its not you that has to clean up in here Mickey!" She scolded him, rolling her eyes and putting her hands on her hips. "And I don't want to be touching whatever crap is on your shoes just because you're a total slob. Alright?" Mickey nodded dutifully, and reminded himself to readjust his thoughts of her being a sister-like figure in his life. Maybe mother hen was more appropriate? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Banksy smile to himself as she took a seat and produced a stapled document from the folder of undercover information. Grabbing a pen, she set to work in forging her new life, and new personality. If she was going to do this, then Erin Moss was going to be a force to be reckoned with!


	6. Admissions

_Huge apologies for the major delay; but as usual school has taken over my life and left very little time for writing - I've spent quite a bit of time planning the story over the past few weeks, and reading over what has already been written, so hopefully the next chapter at least will come a little quicker than this one! Thank you to my reviewers who have put up with my rubbish updating skills: Catty (who gave me a kick up the bum too!), Firebird, Jess, Holly, Brokeninside, PCJAL and Bookworm! You're support is much appriciated!_

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**E-1**

**CHAPTER VI**

The weekend came and went for the troops at CID, and as a small reward for the team, Neil ensured that he managed with as small a workforce as possible to keep things on the Gonzales case turning over. It hadn't gone unnoticed that the body snatchers had evidently stolen the DI, the team knew and rarely admitted to love, but no one complained! They hadn't had any new leads, not that they had been looking hard for any, and for the most part, the investigation was merely OBBO's in and around E1. Stevie, or more accurately Erin had sent her application form off by close of play on Friday, and having seen the document, Neil was sure they'd hear back soon.

It was Monday morning, and unusually for CID, and the make shift office was a hive of activity, all before nine o'clock, something that lead Neil to believe he had picked the best team going for his operation. They were minus one officer: DS Allie Trewin. He wondered when she'd be making her appearance, making a mental note to ensure she was up to more than her station's dire case notes on Diego and Luisa, before allowing her to stay. Over the top of his laptop, he watched the team carefully, his eyes resting for a while on Grace, before he carefully averted his gaze before anyone noticed. His eyes worked their way around the room, before a presence at the door distracted him. A young woman, of no more than thirty was knocking against the glass, a take away Costa mug in one hand, and an oversized back handbag balanced on the crook of her arm. Neil smiled, and waved her in. The team's attention turned to the door, watching the blonde with intent.

"I was directed in here by…" She pointed over her back, her words trailing off, as she realised she not only had Neil's attention, but the whole room. She smiled shyly, ducking her head.

"You must be DS Trewin?" Neil asked, smiling reassuringly. The woman nodded warily, her fringe flicking over her eyes as she looked to the ground once again. "I'm DI Neil Manson, and this is my team; everyone, DS Allie Trewin from Newquay, here to help with our investigation into Diego and Luisa." A ripple of 'hi' and 'hello' echoed around the room, apart from, Neil noticed, Callum, who was sat stoically in the corner, his eyes fixated upon the petite brunette. Allie waved slightly, allowing herself to smile properly as she placed the paper cup down. "If you'd like to set yourself up, I'll let DS Moss run over what we've got so far." Neil motioned to Stevie, who moved her files to one side, making room for Allie to make herself a base.

"Hi." Allie held her hand out to Stevie, nothing interrupting her professional demeanour as she worked to ignore the piercing stare of the man opposite. She shrugged her jacket off, noting Stevie's envious stare at the 'Chloé' label. "It was a birthday present to myself a couple of years ago." She said, by way of explanation. "What can I say, I went a little over board, but with a new job, and new rank to go with it, I couldn't say no!" Stevie smiled at the younger woman's excited babble; unable to stop herself wondering when a Sergeant's pay packet started allowing for such extravagance, because she certainly wasn't privy to that! Looking Allie up and down, Stevie realised that her high wasted pencil skirt, and rose pink silky blouse weren't on the economical side either. The woman oozed a sense of class, something that Stevie was surprised about considering her origin being somewhere known so well for being… well, tacky. Dragging her thoughts from label envy, to the job in hand, Stevie pushed a large green file towards Allie.

"Some light reading for you!" She said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. Allie grinned, and opened the folder to reveal a stack of A4 paper, which after further inspection was covered from top to bottom with impossibly small typing. The grin faltered slightly.

"Owch." She muttered, burying her head into the folder.

"Yeah, sorry about that –" Stevie said sympathetically. Allie lifted her head, and chanced a look over to the male opposite, who to her horror was still gawking in her direction. She wondered if he had taken his eyes off her since she had entered. "I'll do my best to fill you in, but you might find some of that useful if there is anything that throws you." Allie nodded distractedly. "Oh, and as for Callum." Stevie lowered her voice and turned her face away from the room. "Don't worry about him, he's a Sergeant here, probably just sizing you up. Or maybe trying it on." Allie recoiled slightly, unable to stop herself. "I joke, he's not been with anyone seriously since… well that's another story entirely."

"Uhm, right. Ok." Allie found herself unsure of what to say. Stevie, mistakenly or not took this an invitation to continue.

"It's never been confirmed, but a couple of years ago, rumour has it he was involved with a PC, who was killed in a bomb blast whilst under his watch… legend has it, he never got over her." Stevie said, her voice wistful, as if telling a much-loved fairytale to a child. Allie felt her cheeks flush. She opened her mouth several times, before closing it again, evidently thinking better of whatever she was about to say. "Not that we gossip around here, or anything!" Stevie laughed. Allie also managed to crack a smile, but her eyes feel on Callum. "Are you ok?"

"Oh – yeah!" Allie snapped her eyes back to Stevie. "I think I read about that in the paper?" Stevie nodded, she hadn't realised it had made national news, but in hindsight, she could see how it was possible.

"Anyway! Before the guv'nor gets us for not working…" Stevie proceeded to fill Allie in on the happenings so far, following the events on the timeline, which graced the white board behind them. As far as Stevie was concerned, Allie asked all the right questions, and even made several decent suggestions that made her almost certain she would be a good asset to the team; providing Callum didn't scare her off before she had chance to settle in.

"Oi, Guv?" Callum nudged his superior who was sat before a laptop, ferociously tapping against the keys, hard lines etched into his forehead. He had barely said anything to anyone all morning, and several of the team had noticed that, the Inspector had wasted no time blanketing Stevie in his stare. Working so closely, it was quickly becoming apparent to several members of CID that it was not the way to keep private emotions at bay.

"What?" Smithy muttered in response, flexing his fingers above the keyboard before dropping his head to his hand, arching his body to face Callum.

"Is it just me, or does Allie remind you of someone?" Smithy followed Callum's gaze to the blonde who was deep in conversation with DS Moss. Dale didn't say anything for a while. Callum had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't actually looking in Allie's direction at all. "Smithy!"

"Oh, what… uh, yeah, kinda…" Smithy replied distractedly. He realised that Callum's silence was indicating the desire for him to be more explicit. "I dunno; she's got one of them faces hasn't she? Maybe she just looks like someone we've dealt with recently?" He speculated, continuing with the halfhearted tone, brushing off the Sergeant's question. Callum shrugged, not at all convinced, but coming to the conclusion whether he recognised Allie from somewhere or not, he was better to spend his time working rather than deliberating over how he knew her. It wasn't like it mattered in the grand scale of things anyway, however the more he thought about it, the more he acknowledged that there was definitely something about her…

From across the room, something forced him to snap out of the trance he'd tried so hard to avoid falling in. "Smithy can I have a word?" The less than impressed tone of Stevie was sent reverberating around the room, and Callum realised he wasn't the only officer to have gained her attention. The whole of the room was staring disbelievingly in her direction – he was unsure if it was because she was using his first name, or because of the anger in her voice. He'd never heard her talk like that to anyone before, especially not a senior officer, Dale Smith of all people. Dutifully, he followed Stevie from the room, and the heads of the officers all struggled to busy themselves in a vain effort to keep their curious eyes from wondering.

The door slammed behind them, however through the slatted blinds the team saw that Stevie had carried on walking, presumably to avoid any gossip hungry eyes and ears. Smithy, despite the extra foot of height he carried over the small blonde, found himself struggling to keep up with her pace. She stalked down to the Inspectors office, not acknowledging anyone they passed, opened the door and let them both in before closing the door firmly behind Dale. He sat down in the chair, where as Stevie remained standing.

"What the hell are you playing at?" She demanded, hands on her hips, shooting an unforgiving stare towards the Inspector. "I get that you found the other night awkward, you've made that perfectly clear, but we're at work now! You have to let it go before we get into some kind of trouble!" Smithy said nothing, wondering what would be considered a suitable answer; he didn't think having a heart to heart in the station was ever going to go down well.

"I didn't find it awkward." He admitted, breaking eye contact with Stevie, but not before he saw her double take, obviously confused.

"Then why haven't you spoken to me since?" She asked. "You seem to have done your best to avoid me completely. And then you spend the best part of a morning staring at me. Forgive me for being confused, but I think I might be missing something, if this is how you act normally." Both of the officers realised that, despite neither being the sentimental type, they had broken down barriers rarely defeated. Stevie had planned on just giving the Inspector a good old fashioned, Stevie-style bollocking; she hadn't anticipated this level of emotion. She herself sat down in the chair opposite the desk. In the silence that followed, she found her anger levels dissipating. She hadn't ever seen Smithy tongue tied like this.

"It's not the first time I've woken up next to you." Smithy reminded Stevie. "When I was undercover?" Smithy added, unnecessarily jogging Stevie's memory – the images of that morning, and the kiss they'd shared the night before had been hard to erase from her mind over the previous few days. Nothing else had happened admittedly, but he hoped it proved that it wasn't the predicament that they'd awoken to that was the problem.

"So… what is it then?"

"Noth…"

"Don't tell me it's nothing Smithy!" Stevie said sharply, cutting him off. She leant forward and rested her elbows on the desk and whilst she'd found that the silence between them had previously placated her, she was growing tired of the games. She wanted an honest, frank, and slightly blunt conversation with Smithy because that way, she'd know exactly where she stood, and possibly know just what was going on in that mind of his. "For God's sake!" She sighed, standing up quickly and moving towards the door in several swift movements. For a split second, she turned around to face the room again. "I give up; I don't wanna know. Just don't carry this crap on; I'm going undercover, I can't be dealing with all this too."

Something about her final outburst actually sunk into Smithy; she was going undercover. At least the likelihood was that she would be going undercover. And who knew how long she'd be away for?

"I'm…" He paused. That word was enough to get Stevie's attention. He stood up. "I'm worried for you." He admitted quietly. There. He'd said it. It was all out in the open. Stevie looked shocked for a second, however this was quickly replaced.

"Goin' soft are you Smithy?" She asked playfully, the barrier well and truly strung up once more. Smithy was unsure of how to respond. Whilst he wasn't surprised, and pleased that their friendship was so quickly repairable; he wished that she had kept the serious conversation going a bit longer. This wasn't something he wanted to joke about, or make light of. "Come on, Wallace was way more dangerous, and besides, I can pack a meaner punch than you any day!"

'Only for you', a voice within his head replied. Outwardly, Smithy didn't reply. He realised for the past few seconds, the pair had been standing in silence, their eye contact unbroken. Despite the joking manor in which Stevie had spoken, he knew deep down she'd be more than ok. She could handle herself; as selfish as he knew he was, he was more worried that he wouldn't be able to see her for weeks, maybe even months. "I, uh… we ought to be getting back before someone comes looking for my corpse!" Smithy grinned, glancing at the floor, before back at Stevie, who too had the trace of a smile on her face. She turned, and opened the door, stepping back slightly, inadvertently allowing her hand to graze Smithy's arm as he held the door open for her.

Although neither would dare to admit it, they spent the walk back to CID trying to quash the tingly electric impulses that were shooting through their fingers whilst resisting allowing any trace of a smile to grace their lips. e


	7. Time Will Tell

_A slightly quicker turn around than last time! I've been sitting on this for about a week, not completely happy, but I've tweaked a few things so it's kind of... acceptable! Thank you, as usual to my faithful reviwers, it makes my day seeing your comments in my inbox! Catty, Jen, Jess, Bookworm and Firebird, this one's for you!_

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**VII **

**E1**

"I know it's not my place…" Smithy started, a little uncertain of himself. "But I was wondering if I could put myself forward to be the undercover handler?" There, he'd said it. He glanced up at the DI for a second to see how his question had been received.

"Smithy…"

"I know you'll have your doubts, but we've worked undercover before. We know how the other operates." He continued, not allowing Neil to say anything. "We've got each other's backs."

"I know you've done it before, but after last time, you can hardly blame me for any doubt." Neil reminded the younger Inspector. Smithy could feel the chances of him actually making the grade slipping away right before him. "I'm not making any promises, I'm only one half of the SIO." Smithy wondered why he hadn't been struck by this very odd situation before. Since when were there two SIOs? And since when was an - albeit very competent – Constable chosen? Smithy took this opportunity to sit down.

"Talking to you without my stripes on Neil, I'm sure you had your motives for placing Grace as joint SIO; and yeah, I may have my reasons for asking to be Stevie's handler, but I assure you, these reasons are not about to affect my ability to work professionally." If Neil was as shocked with Smithy's frankness as he himself was, he was doing a good job at not showing it, something that Smithy was eternally grateful. "I care about her; this is dangerous – I don't want to be sat here feeling completely helpless when we get a call through saying something's happened – I want to already know." As far as Neil was concerned, Smithy couldn't have made his plea much more plain, however there was a niggling fear in the back of his mind that questioned what had gone on earlier in the day for the pair to have to disappear after such a tense few minutes. Admittedly, since the return, both had been in considerably better moods, however Neil wasn't sure he could deal with any more dramatics than absolute necessary for this undercover.

"Like I said, I'm not making any promises. I'll see what I can do though." Smithy nodded, and stood up, ready to leave the office, when Grace came rushing into the room, all thoughts of knocking at the back of her mind.

"Oh – sorry; but Stevie's got a call from Gonzales." She said, looking between the two men. Both were out of the door, hot on Grace's tale making their way into the Incident Room where an unnatural hush had fallen. The phone was on loudspeaker, resting on the desk before Stevie, and each officer had instinctively craned towards it.

"…You will be available to attend an interview on Wednesday at three o'clock?" A feminine voice that dripped with a thick Spanish lilt reverberated around the room. Her English was difficult to understand, but Neil realised they were over the first hurdle. Stevie had scored an interview; and who wouldn't love her in the flesh?

"Yeah, that sounds good." Stevie said, as enthusiastically as she could muster, despite the swirling nauseating feeling that was accumulating in her stomach. She caught Smithy's eye, who smiled reassuringly back, a simple action which alleviated some of the nerves. She attempted to smile back. "Can I, uh, take a name please?" She asked.

"My name is Eloisa. I'll be around on Wednesday, if you ask for me at the bar." The disembodied voice replied.

"Great!" Stevie continued, leaving the team wondering just where she got her fervour. "I'll see you at three, thanks!" And with that she hung up, before sinking into her seat with a deep breath. The room waited with baited breath, almost as if they were worried Eloisa would be able to hear what was said if they dare speak.

"Well done Stevie." Neil was the first to break the quiet as he praised the young DS. He saw Allie place a reassuring hand on Stevie's arm, and the two women smiled slightly. "We've got to get the ball rolling now. This is our one chance to infiltrate the club – I want everyone working together for the next forty-eight hours or so until Stevie's interview to get everything in place and ready to go." Everyone nodded in agreement, still silent, sharing Stevie's apprehension. "Callum and Allie I want you chasing up Scotland Yard for the keys to the flat, we need to get Stevie into the flat by Wednesday at the very latest, by the end of the day I want access so we can send the tech team in tomorrow to get it wired up." Neil only paused for a split second, however it was long enough for Callum to voice his protest.

"Sir…!" A warning glare from Smithy was sent in his direction, which was enough to shut him up. He avoided Allie's gaze which he had realised was piercing him.

"Callum, my office before you go." Neil said shortly. "Mickey and Banksy, I want you to go and get the DCI up to speed on today's developments, I know he's got some questions. Smithy I want you to go over 'Erin' with Stevie; if anyone wants Grace or I we'll be in the office." As Neil left the Incident Room, Callum proceeded to do the walk of shame across to the door, following his superior. "Shut the door behind you." Neil said after the pair of them had reached the office. Callum did as he was instructed, resisting the urge to slam it. Callum stood before the desk, hands behind his back, something that over the years he'd found himself doing a little bit too frequently, not that it tended to change his behaviour. "I have no idea what the hell you think you're playing at Sergeant Stone, but if you think I'm going to let you treat a visiting officer like that you have another thing coming, do you understand?"

"Sir."

"Now you'll go back in there, apologise to DS Trewin and try to get off on the right foot this time. Otherwise you're off the case, I refuse to carry dead weight when one of my officers is putting the life she knows on the line to go undercover."

"Sir." Callum repeated again, his head hung in genuine shame, before he shuffled awkwardly out of the office.

"Honestly Allie, ignore him. He'll snap out of it in time." Stevie said, sitting down next to the blonde. She seemed to have really taken his last comment to heart, although who wouldn't, she thought to herself? Grace had perched on the edge of the desk, sandwiching Allie in between the two CID officers. Mickey, Banksy and Smithy were stood in a huddle, grunting in a way that made the girls wonder if they were defining their inner man, and steering well clear of the emotions. "You look a lot like Emma, I know he wouldn't ever admit it, but I think these past few years have been tough on him. I think he'd fallen for her more than he realised."

"But that's not your fault!" Grace quickly interjected. Allie didn't look quite so sure. "If you can't work with him, let the DI know." She suggested. "But give it a go –"

"…He'll have been given quite a bollocking!" Stevie grinned. Allie chuckled to herself and shook her head. "He's very set in his ways, a control freak and a totally chauvinistic pig. It's not just you!"

Outside the makeshift office, Callum let his weight fall on the door; he wished the rooms were more soundproofed, for that wasn't something he'd wanted to hear. Pulling himself together, he cursed his vulnerable side for being so easily exposed at the slightest remembrance of Emma. Bringing himself up to his full height, he pushed his way into the room, all traces of accessibility and humanity wiped away. Grace jumped off the desk and brushed past Callum, giving him her best disapproving glare as he went. He was no Max Carter, somewhere; she knew he had a heart. It was just a case of guilt tripping him deep enough to find it.

"Are we off?" He asked, directing his question to the diminutive blonde who had shrunk back further into the chair on hearing his words. She nodded in silence, and lunged for her bag from beneath her feet under the chair. Callum folded his arms, unable to stop himself from tapping his foot impatiently after he saw Stevie squeeze Allie's arm apologetically. He didn't need anyone to make excuses for him.

Callum allowed Allie to walk just in front of him. He made a point of not saying anything, however when he walked past the DI's office, he realised the door was open, and Neil was standing in the frame.

"Remember what I said Sergeant Stone." He reprimanded. Callum did his best to ignore his words, however inwardly wondered whether he was taking things a bit far. In fairness to Allie it wasn't her fault she was so similar to Emma.

The pair made their way through the station, bumping into a few of uniform as they went. The male members of the relief all gave Callum an impressed look, some raising their eyebrows as they went, others winking, whilst Nate, always several paces over the line, mouthed 'get in there', earning a hard slap from Mel.

"It's that silver one." Callum said as they got out into the yard, motioning vaguely to a car before them. Allie was none the wiser, as three of the six or so unmarked cars were silver. She followed his lead, opening the passenger door and sliding in. When the engine didn't start straight away, Allie became aware that once more the Sergeant's gaze was fixated her way. She buckled her seat belt to try and fill the awkwardness, before she started playing with several stray strands of hair, not daring to meet Callum's eye.

Callum realised, possibly for the first time, that whilst Allie did resemble Emma, at the same time there were many of her features that couldn't have been further from how he remembered the young police officer. Her hair was longer, falling in loose blonde curls; she was a good couple of inches taller, with a very minute frame giving her an almost stretched quality. Her eyes were a non-descript shade of blue and she was undeniably pretty, not strikingly so, but in a very classic way; with big eyes, slightly hollowed cheeks, and rounded rosy lips.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He said suddenly, not thinking through what he spoke before he said the words. Allie looked up, startled, forgetting about her no-eye-contact policy.

"What?" She echoed, unsure of what to say.

"I, uh," Callum started gruffly. "I'm sorry. I heard Stevie explaining the last two years of my life. It doesn't make it ok, it just threw me when you walked in." He held his hand out, and raised his eyebrows hopefully. Allie smiled, a proper thousand-watt grin, and shook his hand firmly.

"DS Allie Trewin." She said, as if introducing herself for the first time.

"Sergeant Callum Stone." He replied, also smiling, as they retracted hands. He turned the key in the ignition and swung the car out of the space. "So are you ready for the not so grand tour of East London?" He asked. "Complete with dodgy back routes past all of the finest clubs and pubs."

"Sounds… fabulous!" Allie replied, catching Callum's eye for a split second, realising that he was smiling just as wide as she was. She was surprised at the seeming complete personality revamp he'd gone under in such a short space of time. "Although I think you're forgetting that coming from Newquay, my idea of rough is probably much more scummy than yours! I'm going to think you're taking me down Mayfair or something!" She joked.

"Maybe I can detour and take you down that way so you can see what you're missing." Callum replied, thinking of the multi-million pound complexes that lined the streets.

"Oh don't!" Allie laughed. "I'd quite like to not piss my bank manager off anymore than absolutely necessary! I don't think he could take me even enquiring about renting out a pad out that way. Not that I could afford to even consider it!"

"Keep dreaming, eh then?" Callum asked.

"Somethin' like that." Allie responded wistfully, her attention caught by the skyscrapers that graced either side of the Thames. Callum remained silent, concentrating on navigating the busy city roads, dodging pedestrians, cyclists and cabs like a pro.

"I'm beginning to wonder if it was a good idea pairing Callum and Allie together!" Neil said wryly, sitting down, whilst Grace took the opposite seat. She laughed; she too had wondered whether it was the best tactic.

"Tough love?" She asked, grimacing at the thought of what might be going on now. "It could go one of two ways. Either they'll sort it out like mature adults, or they won't talk to each other for the whole way to Scotland Yard." She concluded. "Allie seems lovely, I'm sure he'll come round."

"Yeah..!" Neil didn't sound quite so sure. It was one thing to pair the morose Sergeant with officers who knew it was nothing personal, but quite another to throw the new girl with him on her first shift. He said he wanted to test her, however he hadn't meant throw her into the bullring, wearing nothing but red! "Anyway, Smithy came to me earlier enquiring about the possibility of him being Stevie's handler…" Neil very purposefully said little more to try and gauge as natural reaction as possible from Grace, however as usual she was very measured.

"I'll be honest…" She started. "I don't think there is anyone better for the job; I've seen the pair of them in action together and they're a force to be reckoned with, however…" Grace paused, unsure how to continue.

"You have reservations?" Neil finished for her. Grace bit down on her lip and nodded slowly.

"Realistically though, they've done it before, and if Smithy managed to convince a whole court that things between them was purely platonic, who are we to say otherwise? They're both professionals, so if anything was going on, I'm sure they could keep their heads above it." Grace reasoned. Despite this, the opposing argument was spinning through her head and a hundred miles an hour, and it was getting hard to ignore.

"However, this morning they were anything but professional." Neil said, playing Devil's Advocate, mirroring Grace's own thoughts. Neither office said anything for a while, trying to inject some order into their thought processes.

"But they sorted it out." Grace said simply. Neither could argue with that. After fifteen minutes away from the Incident Room, they'd both come back in brighter spirits than had been seen since before the weekend. It had been widely agreed that something must have gone on between them, although just what, no one was prepared to speculate. Although no one said as much, it wasn't worth facing the wrath of Stevie Moss. "They can obviously talk to each other. And lets face it; communication is high on the importance list. They're friends, they've worked together before, they both have experience."

"It looks good on paper, doesn't it?" Neil said, doodling absent-mindedly. On paper, it was true; they weren't going to get anyone who fitted the bill better.

"They won't let us down. I don't think we're going to get a better match. And Inspector Smith is obviously keen to do it."

"Whatever his motives." Neil muttered to himself. Grace heard, but chose not to say anything. There was usually always a motive behind every human decision, conscious or not. "I'll let the pair of them know then." Neil concluded after he realised Grace had nothing more to say on the subject. He guessed that time would tell how they fared up working so closely to each other for an extended period of time. He just hoped he didn't have to go and provide a character witness for either of them in court again.


	8. Inhibitions

_A very belated 'Happy Christmas', I hope everyone is feeling suitably bloated! I started writing this just after I posted chapter seven, but life got in the way and I lost inspiration; until Christmas Day when I decided you all were owed some kind of Chistmas present. However, I didn't think it would be 4,800 words of Christmas present (the words just kept coming!), so unfortunately it's taken a little bit longer to write, in between revision and all things Christmasy! I'm quite pleased with how this has turned out - a more Neil/Grace centric chapter was requested, so your wish is my command, and I have concentrated on them, but fear not, there is a fair amount of everyone else too! _

_I hope you all enjoy - thank you as usual to my wonderful reviewers, I hope you all have a fabulous new year, and I will try to update early in January, however I have exams, so don't hold your breath for that!_

* * *

**_VIII_**

**_E1_**

"Guv…" Grace started tentatively, deciding to take the chance before she disappeared from Neil's office. She turned to face her superior, leaning against the door as she did. She had never been one for bold actions, and was already beginning to regret speaking. Her heart was beating against her chest, her palms were becoming moist with sweat and she had realised her breath had become laboured and raspy. "Uh, never mind." She concluded, ducking her head and pressing down on the chrome door handle. She hadn't been one for brash actions for the past forty-five years, and she wasn't about to start now.

"How does dinner tonight sound?" Neil asked, seizing the opportunity Grace hadn't, before she had the chance to flee from the office. Grace looked around in CID to see who might have heard. Luckily, there didn't seem to be anyone around; she assumed the officers left aside to work on the day-to-day cases were out. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she looked to the floor. She turned back to face her superior, careful to wipe the glee from her features as she did.

"Sounds… good." She replied, her voice calm and measured despite the fact that her heart seemed to be on an escape mission from her chest – again.

"7.30; Blue India?" Neil suggested cautiously. The restaurant was an old name from the high street in Canley however it had quickly shown to be too upmarket for the area, and had steadily bettered it's postcode over the years. It had recently relocated to an area of London that was, conveniently, far enough away from Sun Hill's patch to not chance being spotted by any of uniform. Neil knew Grace had heard of it, because during one of his afternoons spent listening absent-mindedly to the conversations happening in CID, the restaurant had come up, and she had mentioned in passing how much she wanted to go there.

Not trusting words, Grace smiled and nodded. She couldn't help but think it slightly strange that they were planning a… dare she say it; date? And not only that, but they were planning it at work, within earshot of anyone who happened to pass. "I, I better get back to work – let you tell Stevie and Smithy the good news."

Neil was left spinning; his mind in the clouds, his eyes gazing at the now empty space Grace had just vacated.

"What… losers." Allie muttered, clearly having to stop herself being more liberal with her language. Callum laughed, glancing down and watching the younger sergeant swing the key ring to Stevie's flat around her index finger as they walked back towards the car after leaving Scotland Yard. He never liked visiting the station, as he always got the impression that the officers their looked down their noses at him. Not just him, but anyone who didn't work there. Maybe they thought there job was worth more 'man points' because it was at the big HQ, he speculated. To be honest, he didn't have time for people like that, and actually he was quite happy where he was. He saw more than enough action at Sun Hill. His smile grew when he realised that was a sure sign he was getting on a bit!

"No one's good enough for them!" He replied, shrugging. "Especially errand boys and girls!" He joked as they slipped into the car. Allie laughed, however even Callum realised it was false and laboured. She had hoped that coming up to London would be a good career move; would help her escape the monotonous rut that her life seemed to have slipped into. She wanted to be more than a Sergeant from the country; and she had realised long ago that her love for fashion and labels was a vain attempt to glamorise her life. "I was joking." Callum said quickly. "You're up here for more than picking up keys – the DI's just figuring you out. You've got to earn respect up here."

"I know; I know." Allie replied. She sighed. "I had seen myself rocking up here and saving the day, y'ano?" She laughed on hearing herself. "I'm good at what I do in Newquay; I've been there so long, I'm part of the furniture – I'm older than my years down there, but up here, I'm just another sergeant." She shrugged dismissively. "I've wanted to come up here for ages, and I've started looking at London through rose tinted glass, from behind my sheltered country desk, you know? I can't help thinking that two weeks up here is going to promote me to Chief Inspector of the world, and whilst I'm on my mission to take over the universe, I'll meet Mr Right, and everything will just slip into place!"

"Nothin's rose tinted around here!" Callum replied, smiling wistfully. He wondered whether Allie had what it took to step up to the challenge. He thought she did, but at the same time, if she thought things were going to be easy, he knew she had another thing coming.

"I've got to learn that quick, haven't I?" Allie asked rhetorically as she gazed out of the window. They'd stopped at traffic lights, and on the street corner, she could see several scantily clad women leaning against the wall of the crummy club behind. They were each wearing thigh high boots with at least three-inch heels', and not much besides. Callum had spotted the women too, but chose not to comment. It said a lot that he didn't think much of it anymore; once he would have wanted to pull them in, throw every possible charge in the book at them, but now he knew it wasn't worth the paperwork. He also knew that there were probably bigger fish to fry than the girls themselves.

"Stick with me, we'll make a hardened cockney lass outta you yet, trust me!" Callum laughed, putting on his best east-end drawl. Allie too laughed, and hoped that she was able to work with Callum more, because as much as he had been, well, horrible to her at first, she was beginning to rather enjoy his company.

"When's your birthday?" Smithy asked, for what felt like the millionth time. Stevie rolled her eyes and snatched the paper from him, scrunching it effortlessly into a ball and aiming it towards the bin in the far corner of the room. She missed.

"I know when my birthday is, I know what my name is, I know that I have two sisters, and that my parents are separated; my mother is dead, I lived with my stepfather who abused me until I was 16, when I left home. My father is with a thirty-year old wannabe model." Stevie grumbled, banging her head dramatically against the table. "Oh. And I know that I've been working in pubs and clubs for the past fifteen years."

"And…"

"I'm single." She muttered, her voice barely audible as she spoke to the table. She had recited so many of Erin's details, so many times that she was beginning to forget her own. "And have been for a few years." Smithy had got up and was unscrewing the wedge of A4 papers that had bore the brunt of Stevie's frustration. He smoothed them out on the desk and placed them down in front of the blonde head that was still clamped to the table.

"You got it."

"I had _'it'_ about an hour and a half ago." Stevie retorted lowly, pulling her head up from the desk as someone knocked against the door. She groaned on seeing Manson through the door, but was quick to put on a wide smile as he entered.

"How's it going?" He asked in an unusually chirpy manner, something that didn't go unnoticed by Stevie and Smithy. Neither answered, however from the flagging body language each officer was displaying, his question was answered. "That well, eh? Well anyway, you can stop what you're doing; Callum and Allie have just got back with the keys and I want you two to go down and visit the flat. Which reminds me; whilst you're both here, I just wanted to let you know Stevie that whilst your undercover Inspector Smith will be acting as your handler, unless you have any complaints?" Stevie looked across at her Inspector and pulled a face, before laughing, and shaking her head.

"I can't think of anyone better for the job, Sir." She replied, smiling again at Smithy. She thought ahead to the next few weeks, and decided that if anyone was going to make it bearable then it was Smithy. On a personal and professional level, she knew that he would make sure everything was going more than smoothly, and that more than anything calmed her growing nerves, if only slightly.

"Great…" Neil paused, and in that pause, Stevie heard a warning that didn't need to be spoken. He didn't want them to mess up, and she knew there would be trouble if they did. She didn't doubt that Smithy himself would get the riot act read to him 'man to man'. It was common knowledge they had history, and if she was going to be honest, it wasn't always firmly in the past; she knew that would provide an extra headache for the DI, and whilst winding him up was usually her forte, she hoped that this would be plain sailing. "Well you two can get off down to the flat then, there's furniture due to be delivered anytime, and I'm hoping that we'll be able to get it wired today. But we'll see." Neil concluded, reining in any optimism that he'd be able to bribe the MET's IT guys away from their desks. He made a mental note to wrack his brains to think of something that would illicit some movement from them, but short of a years supply of donuts, initially came up with nothing.

Stevie's new apartment wasn't that far from her own; but it was closer to the club, and much to her surprise in a nice area that had recently been redeveloped. She had been half expecting a pokey little flat complete with damp and mould. She left Smithy in the sitting room, walking in silence towards a closed white door. She opened it tentatively, almost as if expecting a monster to jump out. She'd found the bedroom; like the rest of the flat it was, well, cosy. Closing the door behind her, she opened the only other door, and had a quick nose around the bathroom, peering into the white cabinets, stopping momentarily to fluff her hair in front of the mirror. Dale was where she'd left him, allowing her to explore her new home at her own pace. There was little to see in the living area; other than the kitchen, there was a large empty space where the sofas, or more aptly, sofa, should be.

"What do you think?" Smithy asked.

"It's… nice." Stevie replied. It wasn't anything like her flat with the gorgeous floor to ceiling windows, or the period features, but for the time being, it was home, and she knew she had to make the best of it.

"A damn sight better than the hellhole I was in!" Smithy laughed, thinking back to the house he'd been in. Stevie knew immediately where she had got her expectations from – it had been from his undercover house, which sure enough had mould in the kitchen and bathroom, damp in the bedroom, peeling paint and moth-eaten carpets. Stevie too laughed, it was normally her looking on the bright side, being optimistic, not Smithy.

Within the next hour, the furniture had started arriving, and Stevie was doing her best to cultivate her optimism – she'd realised that Smithy wasn't always going to be around to pick her up from rock bottom, and that meant doing a certain amount of it herself. Without realising, the buzzer had gone get again, and several gruff voices had shaken her from deep in her own thoughts.

"Alright, love?" The older male said as he backed into the flat, manoeuvring what Stevie assumed to be part of the bed through the door. "'Ang on! Left a bit mate!" He called, having stopped suddenly. Stevie zoned out again, trusting Smithy to have it in hand. She pulled up her legs and curled them under herself, looking around again. The TV was in place on a stand, along with TV, and she even had the relative luxury of a coffee table and shelf. She was sure that with a few home touches she was planning to bring she could make a home out of these four walls yet. Some pictures, she thought, mentally placing them randomly around the room; some on the windowsill, more on the shelves; and maybe even some flowers.

"'Ave fun testin' out them springs later, mate!" The second, shorter, tubbier deliveryman said, after he and his colleague had dropped the mattress onto the bed. He clapped Smithy over the shoulder, nodding his head towards Stevie, and winked. Stevie shuddered at the way he dragged his words out, full of implicit, finished with a slimy drawl. Smithy said nothing, but by the crisp thud of the door took great pleasure in shutting them out.

"Creeps." He muttered, sitting next to Stevie and resting his legs on the coffee table. Stevie laughed and pulled a face of disgust, thinking how this was one of the very few occasions she was lost for words; not just because of the sexual comment, but also because Smithy didn't correct him. She knew she was looking too far into it, however there was a niggling voice at the back of her head asking, 'what if?' and she knew that was a dangerous voice to allow to be heard, especially in the situation she found herself at the moment. "Your gonna have to get used to pervs like them though." He added. Stevie winced at the thought, feeling vaguely nauseous at the same time.

"It's going to be ok, y'ano." Stevie said suddenly. She looked up at Dale, waiting for a response to her epiphany. He chuckled lowly and nodded.

"Yeah, it is!" He replied, looking down at her, feeling suddenly very protective. She looked so small the way she had curled up around herself, and despite her outward optimism, her eyes were betraying her, and she actually looked quite scared. He put his arm around her and pulled her into a bear hug, doing his best to convince himself it was his duty as best friend. However he didn't completely relinquish hold, as a best friend would have and allowed Stevie's head to loll against his chest. "I think that once you're in there, the people are going to be lovely. How bad can Eloisa be? She's royalty; she must have some manners somewhere! And there'll be a whole load of waiters and waitresses who are just like every other person you see in the street and have no idea what's going on out back."

Stevie knew he was right, but it was difficult to apply Smithy's logic in the middle of the night when she was pacing up and down her room, her vivid imagination getting the better of her as she contemplated all the different scenarios she could be put in.

"And I'm sure the neighbours are lovely." Smithy offered. He shifted slightly in his seat, which caused Stevie to sit up. She caught his gaze and smiled slightly, placing a hand over his.

"Thank you." She said sincerely, not really knowing what else to say. Truthfully, if it wasn't for him she would have been rocking back and forth in a darkened cupboard somewhere in the station – but they'd never been a pair for deep meaningful confessions, and she sensed that maybe Smithy didn't need to know that much.

"We, uh, we ought to be getting back." Smithy said, trying to ignore the burning sensation in his hand and the racing of his heart. He saw Stevie sigh out of the corner of his eye, and as she stood up, her hand left his. He didn't know what he could say to try and make it better, all his sympathetic lines, and rationale had flown the nest.

"We'll make more than an errand girl out of you yet!" Callum said, as he logged off the computer. He and Allie had spent the afternoon following up some leads. Other than leaving the desk once, to go and pick up some CCTV, and get a coffee, they'd been glued to their seats, alternating flicking through the hours of video footage and running various faces through facial recognition and names through CRIMNET. It was hardly glamorous, but they'd been able to report some developments to the DI that even included a new face, at the moment nameless, but from what they'd seen, he appeared to be an important cog in the works.

"Shame we couldn't get a name." Allie said dejectedly standing up and shrugging her jacket on.

"We'll work on that!" He said, but he'd been thinking the same. There was always tomorrow. And he was sure as soon as they infiltrated the club, their mystery man's name, along with many others would come out of the dust. I would be nice if he and Allie could beat Stevie to it though.

"Ah well, I've not quite saved the day, but it's not been bad." Allie said as the pair descended the stairs out of CID. "Thanks for not making me look like a complete loner too!" She added, laughing.

"Thanks for not holding a grudge after earlier." Callum replied meekly. Allie laughed and flicked her blonde hair back from her face as they walked. He couldn't help but not take his eyes off her. The more time he spent with her, the more he noticed not only the similarities she had with Emma, but most notably, the differences too. And he had to say; it was the differences he was most glad to see. "There are a few of us going down to the pub tonight if you fancy tagging along? Meet some of uniform?" Callum suggested as he buzzed them out of the station. The chilled air caught them off guard, and Callum did his best to suppress a shiver, whilst Allie pulled her jacket tight around her body. He took her silence as reluctance, but when he looked at her he saw again the shy looking woman who had walked into CID this morning.

"Don't take offense, but I was kinda looking forward to curling up on the sofa with a soppy book and glass of wine." She said, looking every inch as apologetic as she sounded. "But sometime." She added quickly, seeing Callum's face fall, but only for a split second before he sorted himself out, mentally scolding himself for allowing such emotion to freefall.

"Yeah – it's not like we don't go out a lot." Callum replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "See you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, have fun – but I don't want to have to deal with a hung over Sergeant Stone tomorrow, thanks!" Allie grinned playfully. "See you tomorrow." She added, realising as she walked away from him towards her car, she was quite looking forward to working with him again. If she got to, that was. There was something about him; he was a little bit mysterious, very closed and slightly… arrogant, and that drew her in. It was potent; and there was something about it all together that oozed masculinity.

By the time Grace had got out of her door, it was already gone 7.30, and she still had to battle her way through London to get to the restaurant. Fashionably late, had most definitely been and gone, she decided; however the question remained; how was a woman supposed to decide on what to wear when she wasn't even sure what the evening classed as? Was it just dinner with a friend, who happened to be her boss, who she happened to like as slightly more than both? Or was it… a date?

By the time Grace got to the restaurant, it was 8.00, and she wondered whether Neil would be there still. She peered through the window, and saw a waiter standing over a table with someone who looked distinctly like her boss. He didn't look happy; he was standing with one hand on his hip, whilst gesticulating wildly with the other. She raced into the building, apologizing to the waiting line as she manoeuvred her way through, trying in vain not to stand on any feet, or bash into anyone.

"I'm so, so, so sorry!" Grace said, announcing her presence at the table, interrupting the waiter mid-rant. The young man paused, mid-flourish, his mouth gaping open, worlds trailing into nothingness.

"You are half an hour late madam, no?" He asked, his voice laced with a posh London inflection. Grace stared at him incredulously; who did he think he was?

"And you're not doing your job. Don't just let her stand there!" A second voice appeared as if from nowhere. It was much gruffer, older sounding, however it made the young waiter jump to behind Grace's chair, pulling it out with the pretence of graciousness. "Neil, it's good to see you again!" The same voice boomed, as he stretched out his hand and shook Neil's vigorously.

"And you!" Neil replied. "It was good of you to get me a table at such short notice too!"

"I bet your wishing you went somewhere else, after that awful display!" The waiter looked at his feet, blushing a fierce crimson colour.

"Not at all." Neil replied. He was aware he'd still not spoken a word to Grace, however his old school friend had never been one for brief catch-ups. He wouldn't be surprised if pulled up a chair and asked about the latest happenings in his life. Tact had never been a strong point.

"A bottle of our finest wine on the house should sort this mess out though, would you?" The male directed, glaring at the teen. "And then will you see me in my office." He added, his voice much lower and quieter; dangerous even. Grace didn't like to think what the consequences would be for the teen. She wondered whether he'd even have a job by the end of the evening. "And I'll leave you two in peace, Neil it's been nice to see you again, ma'am, I hope you have a lovely evening." Just as quickly as he appeared, he went again, before the waiter reappeared, placing down a bottle of wine and two glasses, which he proceeded to fill with the rich burgundy liquid. He muttered a few words, but neither Grace nor Neil managed to catch them before he sloped off, not doubt towards The Office.

"Hi." Grace said softly, smiling at Neil as she shrugged her coat from around her shoulders. She shouldn't have been surprised that things had been dramatic right from off; they never seemed to be plain sailing where they were concerned.

"Sorry about that." Neil sighed, hoping that evening could be salvaged. This was, after all, supposed to be a reconciliation meal. There was no room for old acquaintances or rude waiters to boot, as Neil knew he had enough making up to do without any more trouble.

"It's fine, honestly!" Grace said amiably, taking in for the first time the effort Neil had made. He was wearing a navy blue striped shirt, unbuttoned at the top, tucked into a pair of jeans. She was glad she'd worn what she had now, deciding that anything else would have been much too under dressed. She decided you could never go wrong with a wrap dress, especially when you spent your weekdays in drab black trousers and earthen toned tops. It made a nice change.

Throughout the evening, Grace and Neil talked about everything from their respective families, to the day's headlines in true British fashion. They even managed to bring up the subject of work without finding themselves in a minor, or more plausibly major disagreement!

"I've wanted to come here for so long, it's even better than I was expecting." She admitted, looking around, taking in the soft lighting, rich décor, and unable to help noticing that they were surrounded by couples, with a few larger groups of friends sporadically placed amongst them. She wondered dangerously what she and Neil looked like to an outsider; but she had a feeling she knew the answer to it. They hadn't stopped talking all evening, a feat possibly helped by the bottle of wine they'd polished off, but mostly down to the fact that she had really enjoyed his company. It had been nice getting to know the off-duty Neil; the Neil that wasn't restrained by rules and regulations and pressured into getting a top result day in, day out, ten-hour shift, after ten-hour shift.

"It's about time we went out successfully!" Neil said wryly, arching his eyebrow slightly. Grace laughed, but the smile remained on her face when she realised that it was good to be able to joke about these things. That was new, but she liked it.

The conversation continued in the light amiable fashion, with the talking interlaced with laughter and easy silence until Neil excused himself from the table leaving Grace alone with her thoughts. When he returned, he was folding his wallet back into his pocket, and Grace, guessing what he'd done, was quick to protest.

"Neil…"

"My treat." He said simply, cutting her off as he pulled out her chair.

"No, honestly, let me pay half!" She insisted, taking her coat from Neil. It was nice to have her chair pulled out for her, and it was nice for him to hold her coat, however the gentlemanly display, Grace would much rather to have stopped there, for she'd always been one to pay her way. "You don't have to do that!"

"I know, but it's done now." Neil said finally. Only then did Grace relent, but only slightly.

"Well… next time, it's on me." She conceded, stepping out of the door of the restaurant as Neil held the door open for her.

"Next time?" He echoed. It was only then Grace realised what she said. Her cheeks flushed against the cool night. She chanced a look up at her superior as they fell into step next to each other. He was wearing a bemused smirk, and at the same time glanced down at Grace. "Have I earned a next time?"

Grace chose this moment to break the eye contact, looking down shyly at the floor. "I think you might have done." She replied quietly. "Just!" She added, nudging him with her elbow, smiling slightly as they once again, albeit briefly, allowed their eyes to reconnect. The walk back to her car, although felt like an age at the beginning of the evening, went much quicker the second time around. "This is me." She said, the rhythmic clicking of her heels signalling the fact that she'd stopped walking. She pulled the keys out of her bag, before standing to face Neil.

"I…" Both Grace and Neil started talking at the same time, before laughing. "Sorry!" Grace said. "Go on."

"I was going to say it's been nice. No drama; well a bit of drama…" Neil said earnestly, thinking back to the beginning of the evening. "But, yeah…" He trailed off awkwardly. Grace stood still for a second, fiddling with the key ring between her fingers.

"Thank you, y'ano, for the meal." She said. "Never again will you pay for my half, but it was lovely." She grinned, before stepping forward, and kissing him lightly on the cheek, their hands grazing for long enough to send shivers through Grace's arm, but neither made the effort to break the contact, and Neil went as far as threading his fingers between Grace's in an uncharacteristic act of forwardness. The pair both stood stock still, neither wanting to pull away, but at the same time not knowing what was supposed to happen yet. It was something of an understatement to say they were out of practise.

In a split second decision, Neil lent down, and instead of mirroring Grace's actions, and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek, he grazed his lips against hers; the wine loosening his inhibitions, if only slightly, before he pulled away, looking sheepish. "Goodnight." He said, untangling their fingers, before stepping back awkwardly. Grace was virtually unable to wipe the smile from her face long enough to speak.

"I'll, uh, see you tomorrow." She managed, before ducking into the safe haven that was her car, and allowing those few minutes to replay in her head, the massive smile still indelible on her rouged lips as a slightly foreign 'fluttery' feeling graced her stomach, and a weight was lifted from her shoulders.


	9. New Personas

_Ok. Where to even start... I lost inspiration, and as a result thought I'd put this story to bed, but after getting some lovely reviews over the weekend, I was inspired to start writing again. Having read the story again, I'm not sure how I was able to leave it where I did... I really hope I manage to stick with it this time - I have no excuses, and I have lots of ideas, so watch this space. _

_Huge apologies to everyone :) _

* * *

**E1**

**CHAPTER IX**

Grace lingered outside of the DI's office, shifting her weight from foot to foot awkwardly. CID was dead, and for good reason, it was only 8.15, but true to form Neil was already barricaded in the office, staring intently at the computer screen that sent a harsh light over his features. Several times, Grace brought her hand up to knock on the door, despite having been told countless times over the past few days that as joint SIO she really didn't need to. After last night, however she wondered whether it would be easier to retain some familiarity in their routine. She tapped lightly against the door once, before letting herself in.

Neil look up from his desk, unable to stop the fainted trace of a smile from playing on his lips on seeing Grace. "Back to knocking are we?" He asked softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as his smile expanded. Grace looked at the floor, breaking the eye contact, and shuffling over to the second desk, a new addition for her benefit. She was nervous; after last night she was uncertain about exactly what that had meant to Neil. It didn't help that she was out of practise in dealing with the morning after situations, let alone when the man in question happened to be her boss. The last thing she wanted was any awkwardness, but she had no idea how to conduct herself. Thinking back to the previous night, Grace attempted to conceal the blush on her cheeks as her lips started to tingle, remembering the feeling of Neil's lips touching hers, even if it had only been for the briefest of seconds. Subconsciously, she ran her fingers over her lower lip, before biting down on it, lost in thought. She was completely oblivious to the fact that she had Neil's undivided attention.

"How are you?" Grace asked, in attempt to break the silence. She didn't look up from the desk.

"Grace…" He stood up from his chair, and walked around to her desk, leaning against it, looking down at the woman before him. She still didn't look up. "Grace?"

"Yes Guv?" Grace hadn't meant to add the formality, in fact, she'd meant to steer clear of names altogether, but force of habit had intervened. She sighed to herself, looking up at Neil meekly. "Last night…" She started, before trailing off, trying to gauge from Neil's body reaction what he was thinking.

"We don't have to pretend it didn't happen…" He ventured softly. Upon Grace's continued silence he added, "but obviously, if you'd rather…" Until that point, it hadn't crossed Grace's mind that he would be feeling awkward too. Neil, on the other hand, hadn't considered the possibility that Grace might have spent the night revaluating, having second thoughts about what had happened.

"No! Not at all." She said, jumping to her defence. She hadn't given Neil much to work with, but she was embarrassed he'd misread her thoughts so. Grace dared herself to lean forward, placing her hand over Neil's. Her pulse increased slightly, and the pair shared a shy smile. "It's just going to take a bit of getting used to, that's all." She concluded. Neil squeezed her hand reassuringly. It was such a fleeting occasion that Neil ever let his barriers down, when he did he rarely realised what he was doing. Leaning down to Grace's level, and pausing a centimetre from her lips, he felt her breath hitch slightly.

"I could get used to this though." He murmured, closing the distance between him and Grace. Like the previous night, the kiss was short, sweet and on Grace's part, completely unexpected, however this time; there was something about the thrill of getting caught that added to the potency of the act.

*x*-*x*-*x*

Stevie did the last few buttons on her blouse up, before perfecting the oversized bow that fell just below her shoulder. Having been sent home from work at twelve, she had promptly realised that whilst jeans were acceptable at Sun Hill, the casual look would not be quite so apt in a club setting. It was been then she was glad for Allie, who in response to her SOS text had brought around half her wardrobe: blouses, skirts, dresses, and a seemingly endless supplies of shoes. Despite having known each other for a few days, they were becoming fast friends. It hadn't been all play and no work however, Allie had also brought over a set of wires, and helped set them up as discreetly as possible to allow the officers back at Sun Hill listen into the interview.

Checking herself in the mirror, Stevie ensured there were no wires visible before stepping into the heels she'd borrowed from Allie. They were slightly too small, every time she took a step her toes cracked in protest, and already the balls of her feet were burning. "No pain no gain Moss." She muttered to herself, fluffing her hair slightly and smacking her lips together, noting the slightly unusual feel of the nude lipstick on her skin. That too had been Allie's influence. She'd have been more than happy to go out with the minimalistic look, but Allie had insisted she do something slightly more sophisticated. They, or rather Allie decided on a sixties look, with peachy cheeks and smoky, graphite coloured eyes with lashings of eyeliner. Stevie couldn't help but be impressed by the transformation. She'd never dare do something like this on her own, but it was definitely the cherry on the cake which she thought would make her that much more memorable after the interview.

Stevie tore herself away from the mirror, the butterflies in her stomach feeling like they added ten kilos, making movement a colossal exertion. Her heels left small dents in the pristine cream carpet. She couldn't help but wonder just how long it'd stay so clean. It was no secret that she was the most accident-prone person in the world. Grabbing her bag from the side, she locked up, leaving twenty minutes to walk to the club; a feat, in her heels, she'd be proud of.

Distracting her from her thoughts, her phone started ringing inside her bag. "Uh… Hello?" She still had quite got to grips with the fact that she was now Erin, and this was Erin's phone, not Stevie's.

"Hey, it's me…" The voice on the end said. "Smithy…" The inspector clarified unnecessarily. "I just wanted to say good luck – we're all thinking of you back at the nick." He said, his voice dripping with sincerity. "You'll knock 'em dead Moss." The words could have been spoken by anyone and not had half the effect of Smithy's. They placated the butterflies, even if only slightly.

"Thanks." It was all she could manage in response, the words choking in her throat.

"Be confident, and be yourself." Smithy continued to talk at her, as she desperately tried to continue taking his assurances to heart.

"The thing is…" Stevie started, "I don't even know who that is." She admitted, knowing this was the source of her nervousness. "Whoever I am now, is who I'll be for the next…" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, the thought, quite simply terrified her.

"Trust me." Smithy said simply. "They'll love you."

"I hope so." Stevie sighed. "I have to go, I'm about two minutes away." She said into the phone, eying up the club nervously. Even in the brightness of day, the large neon letters outside the club were on, giving the white wall behind a blue tinge.

"Ok… I'll pop around after the interview." Smithy said, without thinking. "If that's ok?" He tagged on, uncertainty wavering his voice. Stevie felt her face flush and was suddenly very conscious of her heart pumping hard against her ribs. "I… uh… look, they'll love you, good luck." Stevie didn't know what to say, she'd stopped walking and leant against the wall behind her.

"Thanks. See you later." She sighed, ending the call and dropping her phone into her bag, willing herself to calm down before going any closer to the club. By her own admission it was ridiculous that the prospect of seeing Smithy made her more nervous than going into an interview with known criminals.

*x*-*x*-*x*

"Smooth, Smithy, real smooth." Mickey laughed as the Inspector rung off the call. Banksy, who was the only other office in the room sniggered, having heard the whole exchange over the wires that both Stevie and Smithy had forgotten about.

"Awh, shit!" Smithy muttered under his breath, reddening slightly realising his fatal mistake. I guess all he could be thankful for is that more officers weren't in the incident room yet, for everyone was only due to meet at 3pm, when Stevie's interview was scheduled for. As if on cue, Neil and Grace both entered, followed closely by Callum and Allie, who had been noticed spending a lot of their REFs together, a topic that had been hotly discussed by Mickey, and anyone who would listen to him. The team were taking pity on him, as he was evidently missing the partner in crime he found in Stevie. With the limelight on Callum and Allie, the fact that Grace and Neil had been absent all day had gone unnoticed. There was little chance for small talk from the officers as an unknown voice boomed around the room, causing Grace to dive on the sound system, turning it down.

"You must be Erin?" A female voice.

"Yes. Uh, hi." Stevie blustered in response. Neil rested his head in his hands and prayed Stevie quickly gained the confidence she needed to bag the job.

"It is nice to meet you. I'm Eloisa, joint manager of E1. Would you like to follow me?" The voice was now familiar to the officers, hearing its likeness to that of the woman who invited Stevie to the interview two days ago. Stevie said nothing in response, however the clicking of heels indicated the movement through the club. Every now and again the silence down the radio was punctuated by snippets of muffled conversation, or people greeting Eloisa as she walked past. The hinges of a door squealed. "After you, please make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks." Stevie replied.

"My business partner is unable to be here this afternoon, however he was very impressed with your application." Eloisa started. There was some rustling of paper. Again Stevie said nothing. Neil hadn't moved his head from his hands. He was sinking lower and lower in his seat.

"Come on Stevie." He muttered under his breath.

"So, you have been in the business since you were sixteen?" Eloisa didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "You have lots of experience, we're looking for a manager, of sorts, to help oversee the running of the club, on a day to day basis." At one point or another, the relief thought how clear her English was even over the radio. Her Yale education had obviously been incredibly beneficial to this. "What makes you think yourself to be good enough for E1?"

Silence.

"Crap." Smithy sighed, rolling his eyes. He, like Neil, was beginning to wonder if this might be the beginning, and end of the undercover.

"Well… over the past eleven years, I've seen many different clubs, some have been thriving, and others not so. With all the different clubs, I've experienced many different kinds of managing and as a result I think that I can identify what makes a successful manager, who can help run a successful club." Stevie paused. "I know what this kind of business… _entails_." This time, her words were full of implicit meaning. She'd lowered her tone slightly, and several members of the relief imagined her leaning towards Eloisa slightly, as if letting her in on a secret. "I'm ready for _anything_ you can throw my way." Stevie paused, to let Eloisa mull this over. "Finally," Stevie continued with her trademark bright and bouncy tone. "I also know that managing isn't just about the money and the targets. It's about the people too, about making them feel like you understand, and creating an environment where they're happy to work. I think I can help you and Di… your partner continue cultivating that place." Everyone in the room noticed Stevie's slip-up, and it was followed by a sharp intake of breath. If Eloisa noticed however, she didn't say anything.

Stevie was really getting into the swing of things now, something, which didn't go unnoticed by the officers back at Sun Hill. Some of the tension that had built up in the incident room dissipated, and several relieved looks were passed around the room. At the club, Eloisa too was struggling to hide her admiration for the pint-sized blonde before her.

"That's fabulous, Erin. Do you have any managerial experience?" Eloisa asked, looking for expansion on the CV information she'd been provided with. "Of course, training will be provided by it's good to know where we'd be starting."

The contemplating of how Stevie would fit in at the club, Neil took this as a good sign.

"Not officially, but many employers have given me extra… responsibilities, shall we say." Stevie didn't expand, wanting the comment to be taken in whatever way Eloisa desired. Stevie herself wasn't sure what she was implying. Prostitution, drugs, account fiddling… with what the investigation had thrown up, anything was possible. As the interview went on, Erin continued to flourish, taking on a persona that was even better than what had been devised on paper. This, no one was in any doubt of being solely down to Stevie's ability as an undercover cop. The minutes ticked by, and the formal talk reduced to a general chat between the girls, with both gently opening up about their pasts, or as Stevie knew, part on Erin's past. She couldn't help but think how interesting it was that she left such a huge chunk out. No mention of royalty, no mention of Yale. It wasn't surprising, but ironic, when she considered how many young girls would kill to have that history.

"I just had to get away, you know?" Stevie said, talking of Erin's childhood home. "It wasn't just the beatings, but the memories of the good times were sometimes so much worse. I always felt like such a failure there, like I could have been so much more. I was never a bad student, got good grades – I could have had it all!"

"I know exactly the feelings you talk of!" Eloisa enthused. "It gets to a point where you feel… trapped. Enclosed. Like you want to scream 'get me out of here!' – but you can not change where you come from or what you are." Stevie decided not to press her on 'what she was', leaving that for another conversation, should it come up.

"But when you do get out, the grass isn't always greener… no money… boyfriends who cheat and all that…" It was at this point, something clicked back at Sun Hill, whilst the men were fast losing interest at what they were taking as merely idle chat, Grace chirped up.

"She's making Eloisa see that they're the same!" She said quietly, impressed with Steveie's cunning ploy. "That they have a past in common. That they're damaged goods…" In the background, the two women's babble continued, and the relief could see that Stevie's plan had worked. They had Eloisa just where they wanted her!

"I feel like I know you already, Erin! We share many qualities. I think we will get on just fine, you know!" Smithy exhaled a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and Mickey whooped in his typically dramatic fashion, punching the air. "Of course I have to speak to my partner, but I believe you will fit in perfectly here. I will give you a phone call after I have spoken to him – thank you for coming in!"

"It's been a pleasure." Stevie smiled.

"Likewise." Heels started tapping against the floor. "It's a bit of a maze down here, but I'm sure you'll get used to it!" The sound of footsteps ceased, and Stevie's laughter could be heard down the airwaves.

"I'm sure I will!" She agreed amiably.

*x*-*x*-*x*

"Oi!" Stevie jumped at the voice, bringing her crashing out of her reverie. She span around, almost over balancing in her heels. "Oh… wow!" She came fact to face with Smithy, who had parked just outside the entrance to her flat block. "You look…" Stevie hid her face embarrassed, for some reason, the make up felt tacky and slutty now she was in male company. Not just any male either.

"Like a clown, I know." Stevie admitted, blushing. She doubted Dale could see this however, something she could be semi thankful for. She turned away, busying herself with her key, opening the door and holding it open for her inspector, keeping her face tilted away from him.

"I was going to say that you look… nice, but each to their own!" Smithy laughed as he followed Stevie up the stairs, a few steps behind her. The blush that graced Stevie's cheeks crept down to her neck, causing her pale skin to go pink and slightly blotchy. Neither said anything as they continued to climb the stairs, eventually reaching the flat.

"I'm going to go put something more comfortable on." Stevie said, letting Smithy in. She wasted no time kicking off her shoes, flexing her toes, revelling the feeling of the soft carpet against her throbbing feet. "Do you mind putting the kettle on?" She asked, retreating into the safety of the bathroom.

She took one look herself in the mirror, and mentally scolded Allie for persuading her that wearing an inch thick of make up was a good idea. Running the tap, she ensured it was warm before splashing her face with water, watching as the grimy water dripped from her face swirling into the sink, tarnishing the pristine whiteness. She squeezed some soap into her hands and scrubbed hard at her skin, rubbing her eyes until the grey black pigment from the mascara and eyeliner was gone. Her eyes suddenly looked much smaller, and after massaging some tinted moisturiser into her skin, and slicking some balm over her lips she felt more like Stevie, than Erin. Stevie realised that this may be a physical transformation she'd have to live with for the next few months. It provided her with a mask. Something she put on to get into character. Something she used to cover up the truth.

Shedding the make up was not enough, Stevie felt weighed down with the burden of Erin, so moved into her bedroom where she swapped her fancy clothes for leggings and a long top, accessorised with some Ugg slipper boots instead of expensive jewellery.

"Tea or coffee?" Smithy called through from the kitchen, hearing Stevie scuffing her feet as she slouched into the living area.

"Uh… coffee please." Stevie replied, watching Smithy move around the kitchen. Simple things, such as the muscles in his arms flexing as he reached for the coffee jar caught her eye, making her heart flutter, before she had a chance to reign her emotions in. Where did she think this was going to get her – especially when they were going to have to be working so closely for the foreseeable future. It wasn't a habit she wanted to fall into, getting involved on an undercover. Some things were complicated enough, without the extra baggage. Stevie was still mulling this over when Smithy set the mug of coffee down before her.

"Milk, one sugar." He said, smiling down at her, as he took a seat next to her.

"We'll make a domestic goddess out of you yet!" She grinned in response.

Smithy, although aware of her quip was too distracted to retaliate, distracted by the alteration she'd gone through in the time since they had been home. She looked so much younger without all the make up, undeniably attractive, just as he found her every day; despite spending hours trying to convince himself of the contrary. But, there was something about the Stevie who was all dolled up. He'd never seen her wearing anything remotely similar to the skirt and blouse ensemble she'd donned for the interview, and as for the make up… the whole package had literally taken his breath away when he'd seen her.

"Earth to Smithy…"


	10. Emotions

**CHAPTER X**

**E1**

Stevie had received the call from Eloisa even sooner than she had expected, and the next evening was asked to take on her first shift at E1. It was quick progress, but she was glad things were finally moving along, and the sooner the better as far as she was concerned – it had only been a few days and already, Stevie was going stir crazy without the outside contact.

It didn't feel like her feet had hit the ground all evening, and she'd only been there since six o'clock. Stevie had just glanced across at the clock above the bar to see it strike ten, before another punter wanting serving got her attention. Having never pulled a pint before, Stevie had been surprised to learn it was indeed much harder than it looked, and this proved something of a problem because as she promptly remembered, Erin had over ten years of bar experience under her belt. It was, by her own admission a fairly schoolgirl error.

"What is up with you?" Diego snarled, snatching the pint glass from her hand and showing her how to angle the glass against the hose, and how to pull the lever to ensure a small head. "It's not _fucking_ rocket science." It was the first time Stevie had met Diego, and whilst she had thought she knew what to expect when it came to dealing with him, he really was something else. His size was imposing, especially in comparison with her minute frame, but the way he carried himself, and the way he barked orders, his demands hidden amid obscenities, gave him airs that she hadn't experienced before. It made working for Neil, who was never the easiest of bosses, seem like working in a play park. Eloisa was loitering in the background, biting down anxiously on her rouged lips, no doubt thinking how badly Erin reflected on her. "Can you manage now? Or do you need help uncorking a bloody wine bottle?" Stevie recoiled at the venom in his voice, and mumbled something about being able to manage.

Luckily, events throughout the evening unravelled to ensure that she had as little contact with Diego as possible. She was stuck behind the bar, rushing from one end of the chrome confine, to the other, whilst the two other waitresses, who she hadn't even had chance to introduce herself to, were rotating between collecting glasses and cleaning. It hadn't escaped her notice that every now and then, one or other of them would disappear. She didn't see either Eloisa or Diego all night, and curiosity had her wondering continually what they were doing. The thrill of the chase she was just embarking on was the only adrenaline that was coursing through her veins making the evening at all bearable. Her feet, in her new three inch heels, were aching, and she was sure she'd take them off to find a pool of blood soaked into the material on the back of her ankles and the side of her toes. Her make-up, she could feel running halfway down her face, and her hair was stuck in unflattering whisps across her face.

"It's madness in here tonight!" Stevie turned on her heel as a voice she didn't recognise spoke up from behind her. "I don't think we've met – you must be the new manager." She young girl was measuring out a glass of wine. She barely looked old enough to be working, let alone behind a bar. "I'm Becky." She added, handing over the glass of wine to a woman over the bar, smiling, before turning her attention back to Stevie. She was one of those people who exuded youthfulness – her short peroxide blonde elfin crop, along with pale skin and huge eyes, accessorised with heavy black eyeliner, made Stevie feel old.

"Hey – Erin." Stevie smiled warily. She found herself looking down at Becky, whose heels didn't match her own skyscrapers. The petite girl could have been no more than 5'3", and her tiny frame made her appear even more diminutive, especially in her skimpy clothing. Unlike the bar staff, Stevie didn't have a uniform, her only criteria was 'smart', whereas several of the bar tenders Stevie had momentarily bumped into had been wearing short, black dresses, giving ample cleavage and plenty of leg. "It's mid-week, I don't wanna know what this place is like at the weekend!"

"It's buzzin'!" Becky laughed knowingly. "You don't know what you're letting yourself in for," Stevie couldn't help but laugh, partly because of the irony – she knew all too well what she was letting herself in for, and also because it seemed like the polite thing to do. "Although tonight is weirdly busy for a Wednesday night… maybe the City lot have had a good day…" She suggested, glancing at a table of middle aged men in sharp suits who were surrounded by a couple of bottles of champagne and plenty of empty pint glasses. It was obviously a rhetorical question, because Becky didn't let Stevie answer before piping up once again. "Have you been in the business long?"

"Thirteen years." Stevie replied, struggling to make herself heard over the din. She hadn't realised just how much the loud music was going to hinder her concentration and was slightly worried that after a long shift, her focus would slip, just a little too much. Becky looked suitably impressed. "You?"

"Just a year since I started at Southbank – I'm doing a marketing degree and this place is amazing for getting some hands on work experience. Starting a new business is always makes an interesting case study… Diego and Eloisa have been great too!" Stevie zoned out, the girls babble fading in her consciousness. Towards the door, a group of people gained her attention. As they glanced towards the bar, Stevie saw the figures to be Smithy, Callum and Allie. They caught her attention, each with a subtle nod, before starting to weave their way towards the bar. Stevie's heart began to race, the thrill of getting found out increased several fold when an OBBO was being carried out. It never failed to spice an evening up. The three reached the bar, pulling up the remaining stalls and propping themselves up against the chrome. Allie lifted her hand to catch her eye.

"I… sorry, customers…" Stevie said, her mind elsewhere as she interrupted Becky, who couldn't hide her surprise at being interrupted. At the same time, she couldn't knock her keenness – she wondered how long that'd last. "How can I help?" She asked, in a bright and bubbly tone, trying to convey that she was okay.

"Coke for me, and two pints for the lads." Allie replied, unable to look Stevie in the eye. Callum on the other hand, was busy watching Smithy's response. Having seen her after her interview, he hadn't expected to be surprised by her attire, but he was blown away by it, again. Tonight, she was wearing a mint green silky top, tucked into black high-waisted trousers. Once again, she was wearing heels that left him wondering just how she wasn't tottering around uncontrollably. Her choice of trousers, along with the heels made her legs seem never ending, something he couldn't usually say about Stevie. Her hair and makeup was slightly softer, her blonde tresses falling in loose curls around her face, which had been delicately made up. The slight glow on her cheeks, accompanied with the sheen on her forehead gave her a sort of raw quality that he couldn't tear his eyes from.

Callum elbowed him deeply in the ribs.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded, scowling at the inspector. Smithy looked guilty, grateful for Stevie placing the pints on the bar to give Callum a distraction.

"That'll be nine quid, please." Stevie said, taking the cash from Allie's outstretched hand, glad to be able to move away from the trio, towards the relative safety of conversation with Becky. "Your course sounds great…" Stevie said, trying to restart their previous talking point. Secretly, she wasn't sure why marketing made a worthwhile degree, however she wasn't about to divulge this information.

"Oh yeah! The best bit is being able to go on recces of local clubs and pubs. Y'ano, market research and all that!" Stevie laughed, unsurprised at the girls attitude. This laugh was all the invitation Becky needed, and once again she was off, allowing Stevie's mind to wonder to the other side of the bar. She found herself staring over Becky's shoulder, her eyes gazing helplessly towards Dale.

"Oi, love." With the top few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, and his tie flung over one shoulder, the drunkard trying to gain one of the bar girls attention looked far from the city type that he had when he'd entered the pub. Stevie turned her attention to the man, and plastered a false smile on her face – if there was anything worse than not drinking around people who were absolutely hammered, she didn't know what it was. "Can'ai 'ave… a double vodka an' coke m'darlin'." Stevie raised her eyebrow and glanced at Becky who was sniggering to herself as the punter swayed slightly, pointing in the general direction of the spirits.

"You sure that's a good idea?" She asked. By this time, the scene at the attention of the three officers at the end of the bar. Allie and Callum, like Becky had seen the funny side and could be heard giggling at the drunks misfortune.

"Yes!" He answered triumphantly. Stevie couldn't help but wonder if he should have been prouder for being able to spit the words out without falling over the syllables. "And… whatever the lovely lay-dee is 'avin' too!" He added, attempting to lower his voice. His eyes dropped to Stevie's chest, and she felt herself turn away automatically. She concluded that in his head, he obviously sounded irresistible, because on turning him down, his face fell, not before looking at her incredulously. "Awh, go on love." He insisted, pushing a ten-pound note towards Stevie. "Just a half. Or a… small 'un…"

"I'm working, and your drunk." Stevie laughed awkwardly, making a mental note to thank Becky for being so unhelpful later. The girl just stood and cackled in the background. She could have at least been doing something useful, like collecting glasses, or even… brushing her hair!

"Listen mate, back off." It all happened in a split second. One minute, Smithy was sitting with Allie and Callum, and the next he was next to the banker, squaring up next to him, drawing up to his full height and leering down threateningly to the punter who was slouched over the bar. Stevie, mortified, froze. As if answering her prayers, Callum had jumped up and was dragging Dale away, blurting angry looking words at the inspector, shaking his head, and jabbing his finger at him.

"I'm so sorry!" Allie muttered, dashing after them, leaving Stevie, still shell shocked behind the bar.

"Woah!" Becky said, her eyes trained to where Smithy had been stood. "Did you know that guy?" She asked, her eyes betraying her confusion.

"Never seen him before in my life." Stevie answered on autopilot. She wasn't completely lying either, whilst she had seen Smithy get defensive over her before, he had never had such a steely glint in his eye or such uncontrolled rage. She never believed that he was capable of real damage, however tonight; she didn't doubt that he would have quite happily knocked the seven bells out of the punter.

"Are you ok?" Becky asked, with genuine concern, noting Stevie's pallid complexion and the blank look in her eyes. Something, which Becky couldn't quite put her finger on, had evidently really shaken the new manager. Maybe it was feeling so threatened in a new place, or maybe she had never been in that situation before. Frankly, either way, she concluded that the woman she knew only as Erin, needed to clue up to exactly what the job was going to entail; however she didn't want to be the one to explain.

"I… yeah…" Stevie replied, placing a supportive hand against the bar.

"You've been here _one_ fucking night and already you're starting fights in my bar." Stevie couldn't even see Diego before he heard the aggressive voice getting louder with each thunderous step he took.

"It's not her fault." A second quiet voice insisted. There was no answer as Diego around the corner and stopped in his tracks giving Stevie a filthy look. "Diego, _no es su culpa_!" She repeated, this time using their native tongue. Her tone sounded sharper, and both Stevie and Becky noticed the Spanish didn't sound quite so romantic as it was usually perceived. It seemed to get Diego's attention.

"They're some of our best customers!" He retorted, turning to his girlfriend. "I can't have random _cabróns…"_ Stevie had no idea what Diego had said, but by the way he sneered the word, and the way Eloisa recoiled, she guessed it wasn't a compliment. "…Coming in and starting on customers who pay £50 for a bottle of champagne, several times over!" Diego turned to look down at Stevie. "_Zorra Estúpido_!"

"Diego!" Eloisa scolded, her hands on her minute hips. "I'm so, so sorry." She added quickly, looking apologetically at Stevie. Again, the apparent insult was lost on her, other than for recognising 'stupid'.

"Urgh! Just get out of my sight!" He spat at Stevie and Becky, "You have made a very bad impression you know Erin." Stevie couldn't help but feel like she was five years old again. He turned on his heel, almost knocking Eloisa over as his shoulder grazed hers as he pushed past. "And you…" He paused, mid step, looking his girlfriend up and down. "I thought you knew better than to go recruiting these… these _idiotas inútil_!" Becky looked just as shell-shocked as Stevie, her eyes darting nervously from the punters who were all staring in the direction of the bar, Eloisa and Stevie, who's fingers had now gone white she was clutching the bar so tightly.

"Take the rest of the evening off, Erin." Eloisa sighed, running her fingers through her long hair and brushing it away from her face. The silky locks fell back exactly as they ad been, the loose curls springing back, not a strand out of place. She may have looked immaculate, but her eyes gave away the fact that actually, nothing was ok. In a split second, Stevie saw stress, and terror. Thinking back to the case notes, maybe she knew what was in store for her after everyone had left. The thought of leaving Eloisa in Diego's hands having caused the upset made her feel sick. She knew there was nothing she could do.

"Uh… right." Stevie sighed, feigning dejection. Really, other than for worrying about Eloisa, she couldn't wait to escape.

"Becky take over on the bar." Eloisa ordered. "Erin I'll give you a call tomorrow once Diego has calmed down. Thank you for tonight, I know it wasn't what you were expecting."

"I can't do it, Sir!" Stevie shouted down the phone, having exchanged the usual pleasantries, struggling to keep her cool as she seethed inside, remembering last night's events. "I can't be expected to work at my best when I've got Smithy two steps behind me punching anyone who dares get a little too friendly!"

"Stevie…"

"No! Look, listen. Diego hates my guts as it is – he was throwing every Spanish insult in the book at me yesterday evening and he was less than impressed with Eloisa for employing me. For the sake of all our hard work at the station, I'm not prepared to let Smithy throw away months of dedication and, most importantly, I'm not prepared to give Diego any reasons to batter his girlfriend because from what we know he doesn't need an excuse!" Stevie was pacing up and down her flat now, gesticulating with her free hand wildly, something Neil had noticed on what had been dubbed 'StevieCam' at the nick.

"Ok. Fine, I'll talk to him." Neil sighed, resigned to the fact that maybe their relationship was too volatile for undercover work.

"No, you'll replace him." Stevie said sharply.

"Stevie…"

"If you want this op to go any further, you'll replace him." She interrupted her superior for the second time in as many minutes.

"Right. Like I said, I'll talk to him, and I'll talk to Callum and Allie. Try and see what was going on in his head. Then, Grace and I, as SIOs will decide what to do from there." Neil's choice of words made it clear to Stevie that she was in no negotiating position, but that only angered her even further.

"I'm risking everything for this Neil!" She exploded, dropping all formality.

"And you knew that when you took it on." He retorted quickly. "But, I agree that Smithy's behaviour was inappropriate and was an extra risk to your cover. I can't do anymore right now, it's seven thirty in the morning, and no one else is in the office. Get yourself some breakfast and calm down. We all know what we're doing back here." Stevie didn't bother saying 'bye' to her boss, knowing if she uttered another words it'd be a string of obscenities aimed at Neil and Smithy equally, something which was never going to help the situation. Even with all the undercover experience she and Smithy had combined, nothing could have prepared either of them for what had happened last night. She just wished he'd had some more self-restraint, and she hadn't been quite so affected by it.

A niggling thought in the back of her mind was quite flattered that he reacted the way he did. As inappropriate as it was. Stevie quickly quashed this thought, ignoring the warm, tingling sensation it elicited in the pit of her stomach.


	11. Double Standards

**E1**

**CHAPTER XI**

Stevie still hadn't heard from Eloisa when a series of short sharp blasts on the buzzer into her flat caused her to jump from her reverie. She had been enjoying flicking through some trashy magazines, with Loose Women drowning out the silence in the background. It provided enough of a distraction from the humiliation she suffered last night.

"Hello?" She answered, her breath baited, as her nerves got the better of her; wondering who was paying an unexpected visit.

"It's me." Dale said shortly. No prizes were won for sensing the anger tingeing his words.

"Shit…" She replied, drawing out every syllable.

"St… Erin, let me in." Smithy said, pressing the buzzer again. Once again Stevie jumped, wondering exactly what Smithy wanted. She had a feeling she knew, and personally would much rather he stayed away. As far away as possible, with any luck. That way, things were much simpler for everyone.

"Fine. My door's open." She sighed, allowing him into the building. Stevie pottered into the kitchen and filled the kettle, before flicking it on. She continued to pace up and down the kitchen, her heart in her mouth, knowing how much her talking to Neil would have ripped him to shreds, because it'd pull him further than an arms length from the investigation. Hearing the door open behind her, Stevie turned, watching Dale walk in, her breath baited, as the kettle bubbled furiously behind her.

"Do you… uh, tea or coffee?" She asked timidly, looking between her feet and Dale's. The look on Smithy's face was enough to confirm the fact he wasn't there for a catch up. "Do you, uh… what to sit down?" She asked, taking a couple of baby steps towards him.

"Wait do think you were doing?" He asked, with amazing reserve. Stevie was expecting nothing short of fireworks from him and so this contrast went only to unnerve her further.

"I…"

"Why go to Neil?" He asked. This time, Stevie realised that it wasn't reserve checking Smithy's tone; it was ruled by hurt. It would have been so much easier for him to shout at her, to scream at her. At least that way, Stevie wouldn't have doubted that her course of action was the right one. "Why not just talk, like we normally do, eh?" Stevie sat down, running her hand through her hair and resting her head in her hand.

"You shouldn't have done it, Smithy." Stevie said, stating a cold hard fact that neither of them could escape from. "You could have compromised my cover, and blown the whole case. You still might have."

"You think I don't know that?" He retorted quickly, his voice raised, but not uncontrolled. He pulled a chair up from the dining table in an effort to maintain some space between him and Stevie. "Does it not bother you?"

"What?" Stevie asked, frowning.

"THAT BASTARD IN THE BAR!" And there it was, Stevie thought. Smithy raised his voice, throwing his arms out in frustration. "HE WAS ALL OVER YOU! Why would you let someone do that?"

"Smithy…"

"NO!" He shot her down, continuing to vent his anger. "YOU'RE BETTER THAN THAT! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO HAVE RANDOM CREEPS STARING DOWN YOUR TOP WHEN YOU'RE WORKING. IT WAS DISGUSTING STEVIE – WHY DON'T YOU SEE HOW WRONG IT IS?" This time, Stevie was shocked into silence. "I _know_ what I did was wrong, I _know_ it could have screwed everything up, but I couldn't just sit there and watch that pervert's eyes all over you." Stevie stood up and shuffled her way into the kitchen, keeping her eyes trained from Smithy's gaze. She rested her elbows on the counter and her head fell into her hands, rubbing her temples in a slow circular fashion.

"Well if that's how you feel then maybe you shouldn't be working so closely to me on this one anyway." Stevie sighed, as a way of defending her telling Neil.

Silence.

"If that's what you want…" Everything in her head was screaming at her to say no, but for the next few weeks at least, it was what was best. And that, surely, was more important? Stevie turned around to face Smithy.

"I can't keep worrying that every time a punter tries it on, you'll be there, waiting to knock him out." Stevie said, pulling up the second seat from the dining table, opposite Smithy. "I don't need a bodyguard. I've managed for the last thirty-two years. And Erin's managed in worse situations for twenty-nine." Stevie added, trying to nudge an element of playfulness into the conversation. Smithy cracked a small smile, but it was gone almost as quickly as it came, replaced by a sombre expression as he reached out and placed his hand over Stevie's.

"It's sick." Smithy said, referring to the expectation that the officers of Sun Hill knew was placed on the staff at E1.

"And it's only going to get worse." Stevie replied in an emotionless, no nonsense tone, squeezing Smithy hand gently as way of reassurance.

"Does it not bother you?" Smithy asked. For some reason, although Stevie had come up with a plan for when the came that she was asked to take on some 'extra roles' within the club, she hadn't thought about just how it made her feel.

"I…" Stevie paused, struggling to get her words in the right order. "Maybe it'll make the lies easier? The sex and debauchery is all part of it – once I get in on that I know I've made it." It was a fairly twisted outlook on things, and a very diplomatic answer, something that didn't go unnoticed by Smithy. And he wasn't prepared to let the subject rest.

"That's not an answer." Smithy said. His probing was met by silence, and Stevie looked away. On some level, she was ashamed that she was allowing such a situation to arise, and knowing that Smithy had such strong opinions on the subject didn't help.

"I don't know. I don't know how it makes me feel. Ok Smithy? Is that the answer you were looking for? Do you also want me to admit that I'm shit-scared of Diego, and I fear for what he does to Eloisa because of the fact I'm an incompetent waste of space? What about the fact that yesterday whilst that creep was staring down my top; I actually wanted to punch him? Or maybe even that whilst I was working, every half an hour or so, Becky and another bar girl would disappear out the back with a different man. How the hell do you think that makes me feel, Smithy? Knowing that all of this is going on, and as a police officer I should damn well be doing something about it, not making up some stupid façade to fool these girls into trusting me." Stevie exploded, allowing all her defences to fade. Her voice wavered every few seconds as she refused to allow herself to be broken by an undercover. After all, it had been, a fairly big part of her job in the past. "I don't know what I can do to make it go faster, Smithy." Stevie admitted, her voice quieter this time, her eyes imploring with Smithy. "How can I get Diego behind bars and Eloisa and Becky safe? The way I'm going now…" This time, her speech faltered to silence, a sob choking in her throat. Smithy slid off the chair and knelt on the floor, encasing Stevie in his strong embrace, holding her tight, never wanting to let her go near E1 again. "I don't want you not to be my handler." She admitted into Smithy's shoulder, blinking tears off her eyelashes. "I didn't know what to do about yesterday, I panicked, so I rang Neil. I'm really sorry. I'll call him, and explain…"

Smithy pulled away, "Stevie…" he soothed, taking her hands again, trying to stop her flow of apology and guilt. She had nothing to be apologising, or be guilty for; after all he had been in the wrong. She looked down at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry if he doesn't…" This time, Smithy managed to silence Stevie, reaching up, and capturing her lips between his. When he pulled away, her eyes were closed, and lips parted slightly, forming an 'o' shape.

"That's why I got pissed off last night." Smithy admitted, feeling compelled to break the silence. "I shouldn't have let my personal feelings affect my work life, but something about… it just caught me off guard." He explained softly, failing to get the words out in a coherent sentence. "I'm not expecting anything… especially right now…" He was quick to add. "…With everything else you're going through. I just thought you should know." Stevie said nothing. Smithy hadn't expected to silence Stevie for so long; it wasn't like they hadn't shared the odd kiss before – whilst they were undercover, you could even go as far as saying it was expected of them, but for some reason this time, it was different. Stevie realised that Smithy hadn't been kissing Erin; he'd been kissing her. It was new territory for them both; their trysts before had always been based on a slightly sordid fatal attraction to the thrill and the lies that lingered around the undercover. This time, it had been so gentle; neither could deny it had a pure root from Smithy's heart. As brief as it had been, it had reiterated everything that had been said between them that afternoon, and more. This time, the raw, pent up energy that had been accumulating between the pair was exposed. It occurred to Stevie that the long, lingering looks, the flirty comments and the banter wasn't just coincidence.

"I thought this was all just… male bravado." Stevie said. As much as, deep down, she had hoped it wasn't, she hadn't even let herself conceive the idea in her conscious mind that it was anything more than Smithy's ego. "I didn't know you actually…" Smithy looked away, scolding himself internally for exposing himself, especially when he didn't know when or where he was next going to see Stevie. He shouldn't have even been there now, and he knew full well that StevieCam was going to be documenting their every move. If he wasn't in trouble with Neil before, then he sure was now.

"Yeah, well…" Was all Smithy could think to respond, his tone defensive as he stood up from his kneeling position, feeling more humiliated than ever. Why he exposed himself like that, he had no idea. As he extended his knees, an audible click echoed through the silence. Smithy winced in pain, flexing his knee.

"Getting old are we, Smithy?" Stevie asked, trying to lighten the mood, a smirk playing on her features that Smithy couldn't help but return. It was true to say that her smile was infectious, but opposite to that, Smithy had found out today that her pain and anguish was just as catching. Standing up herself, Stevie took a step towards her colleague. She caught his hand in hers to stop him retreating further.

"You don't have to be nice to me, y'ano." Smithy reassured her, attempting to shrug off her grasp. She linked her fingers through his, and stood before him, rolling the material of his t-shirt through her fingers.

"I'm not just being polite, Smithy." Stevie assured him, before mimicking his earlier movement and stretching up to his height, this time, allowing herself to relax fully into his embrace, revelling the feeling of his hands resting on the small of her back as, for the second time, their lips met; this time leading to a lingering embrace, that neither wanted to pull away from.

"What the hell his Smithy playing at?" Neil asked, venting his frustration by hitting the wall next to the TV that was linked up to the surveillance in Stevie's flat. Grace was stood in silence, gawping at the TV; she, like everyone else at the station had heard the rumours, and speculated just what their relationship was – but she never expected it to develop, especially whilst Stevie was undercover. Smithy pulled away from Stevie, keeping his arms tightly around her, this time pulling her into a hug. As much as Grace felt like she was intruding on a personal moment between the pair, she couldn't help but keep watching, smiling slightly at how their meeting had started, with vicious accusations being thrown across the room.

"At least they've sorted it out." Grace suggested diplomatically, trying to calm Neil down. She turned her attention back to the screen, watching as Stevie dug her hands into Smithy's side, a cheeky, playful grin on her face. He involuntarily jumped, a reflex he couldn't control, pulling Stevie down with him, as they fell an entangled mass of arms and legs on the sofa. Grace laughed at Smithy's mock outrage as he hovered over Stevie, before relenting, and placing several chaste kisses on her.

"There's no way I can let him carry on as her handler now." Neil sighed, glancing at the footage, before looking away stoically. Grace crossed to office so she was standing behind to Neil. She placed her hands around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"Why?" She asked. "It's what they both want."

"It'd make it too complicated. There'd be a lack of professionalism… His emotions have got in the way once before – who's to say it won't happen again?" Neil countered, turning to face Grace, her arms still encasing him.

"We're working together." Grace ventured carefully, trying to gage Neil's reaction. Up until now, the big decisions had been made largely by him, despite her status as joint SIO, but this one, she felt passionately for, but wasn't completely sure how to voice her case. "And I think we're managing to be professional." She added, smiling into a brief kiss as Neil ducked his head to hers.

"Most of the time." He replied wryly. The moments that the couple had shared in the office had been few and far between, and nothing more passionate than a quick peck on the lips when the door was closed, and the blinds down. "So you think they could manage it?" Neil asked, taking Grace's hands from his waist and linking them with his, absentmindedly rubbing circles into the back of her hand.

"I think that he would probably be easier to control if he knew he had something to lose." Grace suggested wisely. "He isn't going to try anything like last night again if he knows he risks losing his position, as well as Stevie. And maybe the relationship will provide some emotional stability for Stevie. I think we've under estimated just how tough it's going to be for her."

"And this is why you're SIO." Neil smiled, after spending some time mulling over Grace's points in his head. He chanced a second kiss in as many minutes, forgetting briefly about the officers in the surrounding rooms as the pair allowed their barriers to drop, just slightly, giving way to a little more passion than they'd dared bring into the office this far. "_And_ that of course." He added, dropping another delicate kiss against Grace's forehead to show he was joking, showing stark contrast to the apathetic man who had objected at his two officers' affair earlier. "I'm still going to talk to him about last night though. He has to know he can't get away with it without any consequences. And he has to know that we know about him and Stevie."

"Just go easy on him." Grace suggested, raising an eyebrow, knowing how Neil could come across sometimes. "You're not always the most… approachable of people." In an act that Grace felt spoke volumes, Neil turned off the screen that was still playing 'StevieCam'. As the screen went black, the pair were sat on the sofa, with Stevie nestled into Smithy, her head resting against his chest, their hands entwined. With everything that was going on, Grace wouldn't have been surprised if that was how they would have liked to stay; in their own safe bubble, without the terror of Diego, or the stress of the case looming over them. In that moment, everything looked simple – stable, even; which was deceptive when you considered the traumatic events that had proceeded, were sure to succeed the afternoon.


	12. Honey Trap

_Sorry for the delay in uploading - I was planning on splitting this chapter, but because of the wait have kept it intact for you :) I'm hoping to upload later this week, but if not then it'll be a few weeks, so if it does come to that, massive apologies!  
Thanks for the reviews, they are much appriciated - Em x_**  
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* * *

**E1  
**

_**XII**_

"Clocking off before six – I feel like a part timer!" Neil said, as he held the office door open for Grace, who laughed. There was some truth in what he was saying – he was drowning in paperwork, and Neil was thankful for the extra pair of hands he had in Grace, because as bad as he felt for having to split the load with her, it had to be done. He was lucky to be leaving the station before eight most nights, something which was made slightly more bearable by the fact that most nights, Grace was sat just opposite him.

Grace popped her head around the door into the incident room, expecting to find it empty as the rest of CID was. Neil absentmindedly placed his hand on her back as she reached to turn the lights out.

"DC Dasari!" Allie said, obviously startled, as she was plunged into darkness, the only source of light being the harsh glare from the laptop in front of her. "Sir." She added, seeing Neil behind Grace. He jumped back, his hands burning as he prayed Allie hadn't seen how close he and Grace had been. The lights flickered back on, the room basking in the dirty glow the energy saving bulb emitted.

"DS Trewin, Sergeant Stone." Grace said formally, Allie not being the only one who had been blind to another officer's presence. She attempted to smile slightly, hoping to hide her guilt. "You're working late Serge." Grace added, looking at Callum. The Sergeant grinned, and looked at Allie.

"What can I say," He glanced at Grace, before turning his attention back to the younger female. "She obviously brings out the best in me!" All four officers laughed, however it didn't escape anyone's notice that it was somewhat false and laboured as they attempted to make the best of an awkward situation. It trailed off, leaving a tense silence. Allie looked around, desperately searching for something to make conversation with.

"Is it anything important?" Neil asked robotically.

"No, we've nearly finished actually." Allie replied. "Just tying up some loose ends after last night. Sorting out the report, that kind'a thing." She continued, but only to fill the silence. The clock in the corner, all were aware, was suddenly ticking harshly. The road outside had gone silent and corridors below were devoid of the usual jovial banter.

"Ok…" Grace said, drawing out each syllable. "Well… don't stay too long. See you tomorrow."

"Night." Allie and Callum replied together, each smiling, the movement not quite reaching their eyes, the uncomfortable situation paralysing them. Grace and Neil backed out of the room, each exhaling as they left, releasing a breath neither new they'd been holding. They walked in silence out of the station, only daring to talk when they reached the cars.

"I'll come round a bit later then?" Neil asked tentatively, referring to the plans they'd made earlier that day.

"Yeah." Grace smiled, leaning against her car. "I hope you're not expecting anything too special for tea though." She admitted shyly. "I haven't made it too the shops." She added, by way of explanation. Neil took hold of her hand, and squeezed it gently.

"I'm not coming over just to eat your food." He assured her. "Although, that might be part of the appeal, because I admit, I'm not much better at the whole food shopping thing either!" Grace laughed, and shook her head slightly at his brazenness; more because she couldn't help but internally admit that she found it a more attractive trait than she'd rather let on, than because she was really offended. "See you later." He said, letting go of her hand and slipping into his car, Grace did the same, each oblivious to the curious eyes that had sought them out from the incident room.

"Do you think…" Allie started, frowning, and turning to face Callum, her eyes betraying her confusion. "I thought someone had told me they didn't get on." Callum didn't say anything; the usually outspoken Sergeant stunned into silence. "I'm sure I heard that? Mickey said something about being surprised they were working together as SIO. He said he thought Grace would rather shoot _herself_ than be put in _Neil's_ firing line." She smiled, thinking back to all the station gossip that she'd picked up from Mickey during a quiet half an hour at the station.

"I… have absolutely no idea." Callum said, staring at the now empty car parking spaces where Grace and Neil had been.

"When they came in… that kind'a awkwardness isn't natural. And they were pretty close…" Allie kept talking, something Callum noticed to be nervous habit of hers.

"Just wait 'til I get to tell the other's about this!" Callum said, not caring whether it was true or not, for it was sure to make some interesting gossip. He was sure everyone would have an opinion on it.

"You'd tell people?" Allie asked incredulously, turning to Callum.

"…Uh… Yeah." He replied, as if it was the most obvious question in the world, and moreover, unable to see why there was so much judgement in Allie's tone. "You must have realised this is how Sun Hill works by now. _The Rumour Mill_?" Allie didn't say anything, the silence more disapproving than anything she could say. "How do you think Mickey knows so much?"

"It must be horrible to work here." Allie said, sitting down, wondering whether the station was what she thought it was. For a newby, getting to know all the gossip deffinitetly had it's benefits, but surely there was a line? What she had learnt from Mickey had all been totally harmless. Surely Callum could see this was of a different calibre? Maybe, she thought to herself, she'd been getting special treatment because she was the new girl. Maybe, once she'd been there for a few weeks, or months, people would start digging about her past. She shuddered at the thought.

"Why?" Callum asked, oblivious. He might moan about work, but he would defend Sun Hill to the death, knowing deep down it wasn't that bad. And anyway, who didn't moan about their work, it was hardly a natural conversation to go bragging about how much you just _love _your work, and how you just _love _spending hours and hours cooped up in an office or on the beat in the pouring rain. Even though he did.

"All the rumours and bitching." Allie replied. "Do you not think, if Grace and the DI wanted people to know, they'd have told us?" She reasoned. "Maybe they're just getting to know each other and want to keep it on the quiet until they know whether it's worth having to change all the office dynamics for the relationship?" Callum was stunned into silence by Allie's sudden righteousness. He knew she had a point, but he didn't know anyone else at the station who was quite so virtuous. Mickey and Stevie might just have passed out, having heard her tirade. "And anyway, you don't even know if anything is going on." Allie added.

"They were holding hands!" Callum laughed, shaking his head at Allie's naivety. "That's not circumstantial evidence!" He added, unable to resist the corny banter. Allie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear; self-conscious of how voicing her opinion may have just pushed her further from the tight circle of officers that Sun Hill seemed to thrive from.

"These rumours could ruin their careers. Especially DI Manson's." Allie shrugged. She'd only been there a few days, it wasn't anything to her whether Grace and Neil were together, but equally she had enough respect for the two of them to understand their want for privacy, especially knowing the stigmatism on office relationships cut across rank.

"I won't say anything." Callum clarified.

"It doesn't matter to me if you do." Allie replied. "But it might to them, that's all I'm saying." She effectively closed the subject, leaving Callum with a lot of food for thought.

"Uh, so…" He tried to fill the silence, never having felt the need to do that before, normally perfectly happy without incessant conversation. There was something about Allie that set him on edge, even having spent so much time with her since she turned up at the station. "Do you fancy going for a drink?" He asked, suggesting what he knew best after a day at work: getting blind drunk. "Come on, you can't turn me down a second time!" He smiled playfully, referring to Allie's first night at Sun Hill when she'd declined the team's offer in favour of curling up with a glass of wine and a book at home.

"I guess I'm obliged, then Sergeant Stone?" Allie replied, rolling her eyes and tagging on a laboured sigh at the end. A twinkling in her eyes was all it took for Callum to realise he wasn't that much of an inconvenience to her.

By the time Neil had arrived, Grace had changed out of her work clothes into a pair of jeans and a long line Breton striped top. Opening the door to her boss, she was glad to see that he too had changed from his usual work gear, into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. "Hi." He smiled, stepping into her hallway, as she ushered him in from the drizzle that seemed to have become something of standard over the past few weeks, giving London that perpetual damp smell that seemed to come with summer rain. He held out a bouquet of sunflowers and looked at the vibrant gold orbs awkwardly. "Uh, these are for you." Grace took them from Neil, their fingers grazing. Even though this contact wasn't illicit, even less so in her own home, it still sent shivers down her spine.

"Thank you." Grace replied, rolling one of the stems between her thumb and forefinger. Almost as if it was polite afterthought, she leant forward and grazed her lips gently against Neil's cheek. "They're lovely." She whispered, her voice caught in her throat by their proximity. Neil slipped his arms around Grace's waist and allowed his hands to rest a little lower than he would normally have, enjoying the feeling of Grace's breath hitching as he stepped closer, prizing the flowers from her grip and placing them on the stairs. "W-water?" Grace murmured weakly, glancing at the flowers for a second before Neil hooked his finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to meet his. Up until that moment, their encounters had been brief, and with an element of civility holding them, or rather Grace, back. Had she been asked, she may have suggested that maybe it was because they'd only ever had dates in public, or maybe because when they saw each other, they were more often than not, at the station. In reality, she knew that was only half of the reason. Neil made her nervous, eliciting a feeling in her stomach that she hadn't experienced for longer than she cared to remember. Grace knew if she let her barriers down, she'd lose her inhibitions, intoxicated by his presence and run the risk of messing things up before they'd really started. "Neil, please." Grace insisted, tearing herself away, pausing to pick up the flowers, before fleeing to the kitchen, where a pan was bubbling on the hob, threatening to overspill. Grace lifted the lid slightly, her arm prickling as the scalding steam escaped.

"Grace…" Neil asked tentatively as she busied herself, riffling through the kitchens for a vase. "Grace, stop." He insisted, his voice firmer this time. The authority obviously struck a cord for Grace, because she turned around, holding the vase and flowers limply in each of her hands. "Let me do that," He suggested looking at the flowers, "…go and sit down, I'll finish tea." He suggested.

"But I'm supposed to be cooking for you!" Grace argued stubbornly, not giving in that easily. "I can't let you come into my home and cook your own meal!" She laughed slightly in spite of herself.

"Please?" Neil took hold of the vase with one hand, not breaking eye contact with Grace. "Please let me do this for you." Grace finally relented, her shoulders to slouching slightly, unable to ignore the fact that she felt like she'd failed already.

Within five minutes, Neil had placed a large glass of wine in front of Grace and was handing her a steaming plate of pasta with a rich red pesto sauce. It wasn't anything fancy, and that only killed Grace a little more inside, as she sat wishing she'd made more of an effort.

"Are you ok?" Neil asked having eaten a few mouthfuls of the pasta in stony silence. Grace still hadn't touched her food. Granted the pair were still yet to completely find their feet in their non-working relationship, Neil was certain there was something bothering the brunette who he cared so deeply about. "You can talk to me, Grace." He added, imploring her deeply. He watched her sigh, and for the second time, he noticed her roll her eyes.

"I just… this, Neil, it's taking a bit of getting used to. That's all." She smiled, plastering on a brave face and taking a small mouthful of pasta, in effort to prove that she was okay. Neil didn't look convinced, but decided to let it slide, hoping they could enjoy what was left of their meal before it went cold. He would broach the subject again later.

"Do you ever feel like you've just had to… settle?" Allie asked, as she set a pint before Callum, whilst also clutching a glass of orange juice. She picked up a chip and placed it on her tongue, before drawing it in and taking a sip of the liquid in her glass. "Just give up on your dreams and stick with what pays the bills? I used to dream about being like Sabrina Duncan…" Allie's eyes had lit up, but Callum looked lost. "Charlie's Angels." Allie explained, "I wanted to be just like her—she was feisty and funny, she was the one who always joined the dots; saved the day. But it's not like that is it?" This had to be the most philosophical ramble Callum had ever heard. From what he'd seen of her in the past few days, she _was_ feisty and funny; he just wondered if it was too forward to say as much.

"What do you mean?" He asked frowning, one hand supporting his head. "You're young, you're single…"

"I worked my arse off in sixth form to get three As. I went to Oxford." Allie paused thoughtfully, lifting her chin slightly; something Callum had noticed her do several times when she was deep in reflection. "I guess I just had visions of coming out of uni, and getting into Intelligence, or something. Even in the police, I thought I'd do my probation and be promoted to… I dunno, superintendent of the world! Instead I had to settle for a lowly sergeant."

"And what's wrong with being a 'lowly sergeant', eh?" Callum grinned, nudging her gently with his elbow. She smiled wistfully, choosing to take a long sip from her drink, rather than reply. "So come on then, Miss I've-been-to-Oxford, I'm sat in a bar with you, and other than for the fact that you come from Newquay, and have drank orange juice all evening, I know nothing about you."

Allie looked up from her drink and eyed Callum carefully, wondering what version of The Allie Story he wanted.

"Well… I was born in 1984 to Steve and Jane Trewin. I have an older sister called Laura, who's a physiotherapist. She's married to her ex-client who happens to have played cricket for England. They have a son. My parents couldn't be prouder of their little trophy family. Me on the other hand… single at twenty-seven, and it doesn't look like that'll be changing any time soon. It just _breaks_ my mother's heart!" She finished dramatically, clutching her chest before grinning widely and rolling her eyes at Callum, who wasn't hiding his dissatisfaction very well; he didn't want to know about Laura, or her mother or father; he wanted to know about Allie.

"What made you want to become a copper?" He asked, continuing probing her, enjoying having someone new to figure out.

"Do you, uh, want the sugar coated version of events, or the, uh…" Allie trailed off at Callum's intrigued expression. "Well – you promise this won't become the next piece of station gossip?" She asked, her eyes searching Callum's for some kind of assurance.

"Yeah, sure." He replied, in his typical offhand manor, something that didn't go the whole way to reassure Allie.

"When I was at college, I got in with a bad crowd…" She started, before drawing a deep breath. She hadn't told anyone in the force this, ever. Callum watched her chin jut out again, an action that made him wonder just what was running through her mind. "Drink…"

"Didn't we all?" Callum asked, thinking, assuming, he'd heard the worst of it; reliving parties from his own teenage years – or at least, what he could remember of them. Allie shot him a look, which said quite simply 'shut up'. Callum was quick to snap his mouth shut, before he realised what had happened. He wasn't usually dictated by anyone.

"Drink, Drugs… parties that would go on for days." Allie bit down on her lip, closing her eyes, cringing at what a mess she had become, recalling herself at her very lowest. Contrary to the delicate, elegant young woman that was sitting in one of the more classy bars in Canley, the sixteen-year-old Allie would have more likely been found in an abandoned warehouse in the country. Her hair, instead of being the radiant honey blonde she styled now, was a grimy, lank mousy brown that fell choppily around her shoulders; self cut, of course. Her eyes, although have never been bright, were murky grey pools instead of the steely slate colour they tended towards now and were often heavily accessorised with clumsily applied eyeliner and mascara, that after a few days would have slipped down her cheeks, leaving a maze of blotchy pigment. Her lips were permanently stained a garish pink, which flaked off with the dry skin as she spoke, or more likely, took a hit of whatever she could get her hands on. Her skin lost all of it's colour, and it's sallow quality made her look bonier than perhaps her emaciated size four frame really was. "I never took it, but I looked like your typical Heroin Chic. Bruises, big black and yellow bruises, I never knew how they got there, but they took weeks, months even, to disappear… I had bones jutting out from all angles, but at the same time, a weird bloating that would cling to my cheeks after I'd been drinking. I was hardly ever at home, and even more rarely at school. Then, one Christmas, my friend took some dodgy Crystal Meth and ended up in ITU. She survived, but… she picked up chronic Hepatitis from the needle, and died from liver cirrhosis eighteen months later. The liver stuff wasn't helped by the alcohol and drugs abuse… but it was all accelerated by the Hep B from the needle that I would have used when started on that batch…" Allie paused to try and pull herself together, unable to believe just how painful talking about her past was, despite the fact the memories she was conjuring were thirteen years old. "Before I had a chance to move onto the meth; Lisa'd already started complaining about a headache and blurred vision and this turned into really vivid hallucinations. Then she started twitching and having these… convulsions… I remember the paramedics shouting that about tachycardia and diaphoresis… accelerated heart rate and excessive sweating. They said she was lucky to be even experiencing that. Apparently, with the amount she took, and the toxins in that specific batch…" A choked sob escaped Allie's lips, partly at the gut wrenching agony she was feeling, but also, on a more selfish note, the fact that had she had just ten minutes longer at the party, she would have more than likely ended up the same way as Lisa. She felt sick to the stomach with the memory that, at the time, she'd been annoyed with Lisa for cutting her evening short. Allie had been planning on ditching her at the nearest road for the emergency services to find her. She couldn't remember why she didn't abandon her, but had a sinking feeling it wasn't because she had a sudden bout of compassion.

"Shit, Allie." Callum breathed, his features stunned into a gormless gaze. "I didn't… you don't have to carry on…" He said, shaking his head, wondering if, with her, he'd bitten off more than he could chew with his desire to understand her.

"Well, you know the story now." She said weakly, shrugging helplessly. "I dropped out of college and begged my parents to send me to a boarding school so I could finish my A-Levels away from the bad influences. It wasn't so much my parents I needed to beg, they were over moon with the idea of me finally sorting myself out, but the schools… well they were much harder to persuade. I don't know why they took me, and although it was too late for my January modules, I re-sat them in the summer, and I guess I was blessed with a natural intelligence I didn't deserve because somehow, I came away with three As and a place at Oxford studying Psychology. Don't get me wrong, after that Christmas I did nothing but study, voluntary work and extra-curricular activities; I felt a debt to mum and dad… Lisa and myself too; so in some ways, maybe I did deserve it? Maybe not though… For the record too, that's why I'm on the OJ. I've been clean for the last twelve and a half years. When I said I was going home to curl up with a book and glass of wine. I lied. I curled up with a book and glass of water, but that doesn't role off the tongue quite so well."

"I think, what you did… what you've gone on to do, it's amazing!" Callum said earnestly, truly in awe of Allie's strength and the success story she had carved. To the eye, she was just another five foot something blonde, but Callum now felt the liquid steel quality her eyes took on, take a whole new meaning. It told a story of incredible fortitude and resilience.

"It's nothing worthy of praise." Allie said in response. "I gave my parents hell for six months and then begged them to remortgage the house and pay £15,000 to go to boarding school just so I could undo mistakes I should never have made." She ran her hand through her hair, looking at the floor ashamed. "I guess now you know why I'm so keen to be working on the case. It's underestimated how easily available drugs are on the streets without scum like Diego setting honey traps with the stuff." Callum could tell Allie was speaking from the heart; her voice was wavering with passion. She looked from the floor, up to the ceiling and swallowed hard. "So, tell what there is to know about the formidable Callum Stone. I'm pretty hard to shock… as you can imagine." She smiled wryly, a playful glint in her eyes that dared him to challenge her; at the same time, it swiftly changed the subject, barring all conversation about her misspent youth.

"Grace, about earlier…" Neil started, unsure how gently prise her feelings open. He noticed her sigh from the corner of his eye and wondered whether he should just let it slide. "You can talk to me, you know?"

Grace turned, tucking one leg under herself as she manoeuvred herself so she was facing Neil. "I don't feel like I know the… real you. I know DI Manson, and I know what makes him tick, but what about the off duty person, who's a dad and a son and a brother?" She asked. "I don't want to rush into things… and I don't want to mess things up. It'd be an understatement to say I haven't been in this position for a really long time."

"Well, Jake is eleven. He's just about to start secondary school, and honestly, I'm terrified for him." Neil laughed. "I know he'll be fine, but it's just the irrational part of me that still sees him as the vulnerable little boy he looked like when he was in hospital."

"Hospital?" Grace echoed, frowning.

"Oh." A sound escaped Neil's lips as if all the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He'd forgotten Grace didn't know about his son's illness. "Jake had leukaemia last year. He's been given the all clear, and he's doing great, but as a parent you never forget and never stop worrying it'll come back…"

"Neil, I'm so sorry!" Grace whispered hoarsely, in a state of shock. "I had no idea…" So much of what had transpired between the pair over the previous twelve months slotted into place. It all made sense now.

"You just thought I was a grumpy git!" He laughed, boldly placing his hand on Grace's knee to show he was only joking.

"Something like that!" Grace smiled in response, lacing her fingers with Neil's, enjoying the contact. It gave her a feeling of stability and strength and she hoped that reflected in where her and Neil's relationship was heading. "Why didn't you say anything?" Grace asked, her expression turning earnest once more.

"Banksy knew. He saw me at the hospital one evening with Jake, but otherwise, it was easier just to batten down the hatches and carry on as if nothing was wrong and I was just a ruthless idiot." Neil shrugged in what Grace felt an eerily nonchalant way. In hindsight, she guessed she wouldn't have been the first person he told – it wasn't like they were long friends, after all. "Like I said, he's fine now – he was so brave, braver than Philippa and I put together!"

"Poor little thing." Grace sighed. "You know… when the time's right, I'd like to meet him, Neil." She added, looking up at him sincerely. "There's no rush, I get you don't just introduce him to every… y'ano…" Grace trailed off, unsure how to define what she was to Neil.

"You aren't just every woman, Grace." Neil assured her. "And besides, it's not like there have been that many." He added, smirking. Yes, once, maybe there would have been more women in his life, but he'd done a lot of growing up the past few years, and that had reflected in the company he kept. He leant towards her, lingering a little way from her lips, allowing her to dictate the pace they moved at. She closed the gap between them after a second's hesitancy, and lifted her hand to the side of Neil's neck, gently placing the pads of her fingers against his skin, as if expecting the action to scald her. She relaxed into the embrace slightly, her shoulders dropping from the stiff position she was braced in. "I'd like you to meet Jake too." Neil said, breaking the contact, only to pull Grace towards him, smiling to himself as she tucked herself into the crook of his arm. "As for the son and brother, well, my parents both live in Lancashire, in the house where I was born and I'm an only child, so I can't really comment on the brother thing."

"An only child…" Grace repeated. "I can't imagine that…" She added, thinking back to her own childhood. "I have two older brothers, and a twin sister." She added as way of explanation. "We had the traditionally huge Hindu family. There was always something going on, the house was always full of kids and my mother spent her life complaining that she never got any peace and quiet, but the minute we went away, she was begging us to come home again – she loved it really! I don't think I've ever known anyone so maternal."

"It was lonely sometimes." Neil admitted. "I had a couple of friends who didn't have any siblings, so we always hung out together, but other than that, I had a stash of books that was good enough for me."

"You made up for it with all that raving – I doubt you even noticed the fact you were an only child!" Grace chuckled, glancing up at Neil, who feigned annoyance, before giving up; knowing the smirk on his face was giving him away. He leant down and captured her lips in his for a split second, and pulled away, feeling her smiling against him.

"You must have had a guilty pleasure too!" Neil insisted.

"Nope." Grace smiled angelically. "The wildest thing I ever did was camp out on Brighton beach with my sister and our friends. Our brothers had a habit of smothering us, so we decided one summer we were going to hole up on the beach for a night." Neil laughed at the thought of teenage Grace's attempt at rebellion. "They didn't even know we'd gone, we snuck out at midnight and were back before six the next morning!" This made Neil laugh even more. He dropped a kiss against her hair, and she wrapped her arm around his chest, pulling them closer together.

"I see where you get your goody-two-shoes act from now." Neil grinned. Grace laughed despite herself; how could she argue anyway, she'd always prided herself on not being reprimanded once during her school career, let alone getting a detention or anything else quite so _scandalous_. "So other than the fact that you make everyone else around you look like the devil incarnate, what else don't I know about you?"

"There isn't much…" Grace said, screwing her nose up at the lack of interest even she could find in her own life. "I grew up in Brighton, my father is French, my mother Indian and because of that I can speak both French and Hindi fluently. I was brought up Hindu, but didn't continue practising once I went to uni, which didn't go down very well at home… everyone apart from Ria gave it up too, I think my parents were hoping I might buck the trend." Grace toyed with whether she should share this next piece of trivia. It was possibly one of her most defining decisions, and one that had lodged a wedge between her and her parents for a few months. "I, uh, my birth name is Lavanya." It was going to come out at some point anyway, and better now, when she could explain it, than in front of her parents. "Mum and dad thought it was me rebelling, but I felt it gave me this false cultural persona. I've always classed myself as British, whereas my parents are very much French and Indian, so I researched what 'Lavanya' meant, and it means Grace… My parents still insist on calling me Lavanya, and at first they maintained that the rest of the brood call me by my birth name too. I guess they hoped I might have given up fighting it. I didn't, and Grace stuck for everyone apart from my parents."

"Lavanya… it's pretty." Neil said thoughtfully, absentmindedly playing with a strand of Grace's ebony hair.

"But it's not me. I never suited it… anyway…" Grace said, steering the conversation away from the change of name, feeling uncomfortable on the subject. It wasn't something she often shared; in fact she couldn't think of anyone she was close to other than her family who knew, and that was the way she wanted it to stay. "I did ballet when I was younger too…" Neil stayed silent, unable to imagine the shy and retiring Grace he knew in such a situation, feeling comfortable with all eyes on her. "It wasn't all pink tutus and girliness… although that was a lot of it! I loved it, but I went up on pointe one too many times and tore a ligament in my leg." Grace felt Neil wince beneath her at the thought. "I wasn't dedicated enough to risk that much pain again. I'd wrecked my toes and I liked the idea not having to be so disciplined. Four hours a week doesn't sound like a lot, and in ballet terms, it's not, but I think it was the difference between Oxford and another university."

Both sat in a companionable silence, each drinking in the information the other had kept concealed until that night. Grace recognised it as a pivotal point in their relationship, both platonic, and… whatever _this_ was. She felt closer emotionally to Neil that she had done anyone in a long time, not to mention physically. She looked down at where her hand was rested; wrapped around Neil's side. She couldn't help but smile to herself, revelling in the feeling of being in his arms as he played with her hair, or drew circles into her arm. She normally cringed at the clinginess of such actions, feeling claustrophobic just thinking about it, however right here, right now; she couldn't think of anything more natural. She doubted whether Neil even realised he was doing it, and it made her rethink that it was an act of neediness, rather attraction at it's most raw and spontaneous.

"We better be going otherwise Manson will have our guts for Grace's garters when we're late tomorrow!" Callum smirked, before draining the dregs of his pint.

"Urgh! Callum, please!" Allie couldn't help but giggle as she raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

"I might not be allowed to tell anyone, but you've got to let me have my fun with this!" He countered cheekily. All jokes aside, he was feeling both physically and emotionally drained from the evening, despite not having done or drunk as much as on other evenings out. He stood from his seat, and Allie allowed suit, shrugging a grey military style jacket over her slender shoulders before rearranging her teal top, pulling at the hem, before lifting it at the low neck so it sat in the same place as before she started fussing with it.

"I've enjoyed tonight." She smiled amicably, as the pair left the pub.

"After you." He mumbled, holding the door open for Allie.

"And who says chivalry is dead?" She smiled, the gentle ribbing hiding a 'thank you' somewhere. "Thank you for not judging." Allie added, as the pair came to stop on the cobbled pavement outside the pub. She turned to face Callum, looking up at him through her dark lashes, his features illuminated by the harsh glow of the amber streetlights. "Next time, it's my turn to suss you out, though!" She warned, stepping closer to him, not breaking eye contact. The gaze passing between them intensified into a sultry stare whilst Callum had an eerie sense of déjà vu coursing through his veins. All of a sudden, the woman standing before him wasn't Detective Sergeant Trewin, but the much known and loved Emma Keane. He'd overheard many officers noting the similarities the two shared over the past few days, and he too had been shocked when she walked into the incident room. Up until now, however, the resemblance had only gone as far as their appearances…


	13. Protection

_I've actually really enjoyed writing this chapter; whilst looking for some footage, I stumbled across some old The Bill episodes on Youtube from around the time Emma died, and really enjoyed having a bit of a reminisce about the good ol' days. I think I'd forgotten just how much I loved my Wednesday and Thursday evenings! I've got a plan for the next chapter, but we'll see how much life delays it! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks as ever for the reads and reviews :)_

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**Chapter XIII**

"…And if there is so much as a whisper of any trouble…" Neil glared at Smithy mid soliloquy, referring to the first OBBO that the team had carried out in E1 after Stevie had gone undercover. "…then I swear to God I won't be quite so forgiving this time. Do you understand?" He was reading the riot act to Callum and Allie, the two officers who had volunteered themselves to spend the evening in the bar, keeping check on Stevie after her previous shift had taken a turn for the worst

"Sir." Allie said respectfully, her eyes wide, having never heard him speak in such a steely manner. She had heard rumours of him being the formidable boss, but hadn't quite believed it until she saw it. Callum merely nodded, obviously not phased. Maybe, she thought to herself, he'd heard enough of his threats for them not to register.

Across Sun Hill, Stevie was still reeling from the riot act that Diego had read to her. She was under no disillusion that had it not been for Eloisa she would have been history to the club on her first night. It had struck her before how fiercely loyal the young woman seemed to be, even to someone like Stevie, who she barely knew. For a second, her stomach churned as she thought that actually, she didn't deserve Eloisa's support.

"You cause me anymore more trouble, you'll be out of here quicker than Eloisa can jump to your sorry defence." Diego had sneered, glaring at Stevie as if he had just smelt something distasteful, before looking Eloisa up and down with similar revulsion. The young woman had flinched and shifted back into the wall. Eloisa broke the intense link between them and looked at the floor. Stevie shuddered, re-playing the scene in her mind from the comfort of her sofa. She didn't want to think what Eloisa's punishment had been for jumping to her 'sorry defence'. From the looks of unadulterated contempt that Stevie had noticed her throwing to Deigo's turned back, she was sure that it was severe, and it lead her to wonder just what the immaculate clothing, flawless makeup and glitzy diamonds were hiding. It didn't bear thinking about. It was this however, that lead her to make a call to Smithy.

"Are you ok?" Smithy answered after the first ring. His heart was in his mouth praying that the voice on the end was as upbeat and chirpy as he'd come to expect.

"I'm fine. I just wanted a chat… you're not busy are you?" Stevie asked, her voice downcast.

"Course not – hang on, let me just get out of the office." Smithy replied, wondering if he'd ever be too busy for her; especially when her voice was so heavy with desperation, something so unlike Stevie it scared him, despite her insistence that she was okay. "You worried me." Smithy sighed, sitting down on the wall at the back of the station, his back to the door in the hope his conversation might remain private. "I thought something had happened!"

"I'm worried about Eloisa." Stevie sighed, running her fingers through her hair, the stress of the operation catching up with her. She'd only been up for four hours; but she was completely emotionally and physically drained.

"What do we care? She had a choice about getting involved with that piece of scum." Stevie had noticed that it had been a long time since Smithy had called the E1 owner by his name, instead inserting his choice insult of the moment in a superior, disdainful tone.

"Smithy!" Stevie scolded. "How can you say that?" Stevie wondered if his attitude was marred by the fact that he was removed from the action, in a place where the personality of individuals was dictated by the stereotype that best fitted them. Smithy didn't bring up the fact that he could be so nonchalant because just about every shred of his compassion was taken up with fear for Stevie. Stevie ploughed on, not wanting to argue. "Anyway…I think Diego's abusing her."

"Tell me something we didn't suspect." Smithy muttered drily.

"Seriously Smithy, this is a young girl's life. When is this behaviour ever ok? It shouldn't matter that the assailant is a drug dealer, or that the victim is a Princess."

"Distant heir to the Spanish thrown." Smithy retorted. "Hardly makes her a Princess." Stevie allowed a long line of expletives to trail across her mind, exasperated by Smithy's attitude. It didn't cross her mind that she never usually got quite so enthralled by an investigation. It wasn't like she was new to the undercover scene either.

"I think she took a beating because she told Diego to give me another chance at the club. If it wasn't for her, I don't think I'd still be in. I don't know how much she has to do with the drugs and girls, though Smithy. She doesn't seem the type. She's too sweet and innocent. So idealistic. I don't think she's capable."

"It's always the quiet ones… She was involved the minute she turned her nose and didn't tell us, Stevie. You know how it works. She might not be the main cog in the works, but she has kept schtum as her boyfriend imports Class A drugs into the country, and sells _love _to The City." Stevie sighed, she knew Smithy had a point, but she wished that in this case, the law system was slightly more compassionate. "You need to use her vulnerability and try and find out what's going on. Then maybe you can get back to normal sooner rather than later." Stevie laughed mirthlessly; she'd forgotten what 'normal' was. She folded herself further into the sofa, her stomach churning violently as she realised that, for the time being at least, she wouldn't be able to help Eloisa, as a police officer should. The only thing that made her feel better was that when it all came out, Eloisa would be away from the hands of Diego for a very long time.

"We're supposed to keep vulnerable members of society like her safe, though Smithy." Stevie whispered hoarsely, the words catching in her throat. "Can you come over before I go to work?" Stevie pleaded, hating how needy she sounded.

"Uh… yeah…" It was at this point that it really dawned on Smithy just how much Stevie was struggling, and it scared him that an undercover which, on paper, looked fairly simple, had left her a shadow of the woman he knew; mere days after she had adopted the identity of Erin Moss. "I'll be right over."

"Bye." Stevie sighed, ending the call.

Allie turned the corner, having left the changing room. She had reapplied her make up in the hope that she wouldn't look too out of place in the club. That morning she had chosen to wear a black, pink and purple colour-block shift dress along with a pair of pink patent heels that should have been impossible to walk in. She wasn't sure it was the look E1's clientele tended to channel, but she didn't have time to go home and change, so she was resigned to the fact that it would have to do, even if she was destined to stick out like a sore thumb.

Distracting her from her wardrobe crisis, she saw Callum and Smithy huddled in a corner, talking in hurried, hushed voices. She bounded up to them enthusiastically, her blonde hair dancing around her shoulders in soft curls.

"Ready?" She asked Callum, smiling by way of greeting to Smithy. The pair obviously hadn't heard her coming, despite the loud clip clopping of her heels, which normally alerted people a hundred metres away that someone was coming. Whatever the officers had been talking about, Allie realised must have been important. It dawned on her that she wasn't welcome, and by the look that was passing between Dale and Callum she wondered if maybe what was being said was more _illegal_ than _important_. "Ooo-kay…" She drew the syllables out, glancing between the two officers. "I'll just meet you in the…sergeant's office?" She asked, after looking around, wondering where she could seek refuge. Callum grunted, in what she guessed was the affirmative, and Dale maintained his silence, his lips pursed tightly together.

"What do you think she heard?" Callum hissed, as Allie made a point of closing the door as slowly as possible, not that she was sure she wanted to be privy to whatever they were talking about.

"How long was she there for? Dale replied, shrugging; panic evident in his eyes and voice. Allie clicked the door shut, feeling sick at the thought of what she had unwittingly discovered. She'd had the unhappy experience of working with a bent copper in the team in Newquay, but two working together was a very different league as far as she was concerned. To her it screamed out that it was calculated and organised rather than just someone who had lost their way and got tangled in the mess of an investigation. A couple of minutes passed, and Allie was still pacing the office, chewing on her carefully polished fingers as she wondered what to do. She didn't know for definite, she hadn't heard anything to confirm her fears; but this case was too important to her to risk it being corrupted for a second time. Callum joined Allie in the office, entering in silence, his grey eyes watching her closely. She took a tentative step towards him, hoping she appeared more confident than she felt. She was aware, as she maintained careful eye contact, that the office was suddenly stifling.

Just inches apart, she finally broke eye contact. His jagged breath lifted a few strands of hair from her shoulder as she lent towards him. Callum remained stock-still. "I've got you sussed." She muttered, sending an involuntary shiver down Callum's spine. He blanched. Allie thought she had him; his complexion suddenly white and clammy, with what she believed to be fear. She wasn't aware that scene unfolding in Callum's mind was _that_ moment he had shared with Emma the evening before her death. He was confused, and a sudden wave of grief and an insatiable aching overwhelmed him, and dropped into the leather office chair behind him, holding his head in his hands.

"Shit."

"I've got you sussed…" Emma challenged, her eyes not breaking away from Callum's. Her lips were parted slightly, her hair ruffled from her altercation with one of the City Slickers.

"Really?" He breathed in response, his heart pounding against his chest as Emma stepped closer once more. He sounded defiant, confident as ever; he hoped she didn't realise the extent of the effect she was having on him. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He hadn't ever seen her like this before. Before she has just been Emma Keane. A good officer, sure; and yes, she'd got his attention once or twice, but other than that she had seemed completely placid. He'd wanted to see how she reacted when her feathers had been ruffled slightly. He guessed he'd pushed her far enough.

"Mmhmm…" She nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. She bit down on her lip; Callum was unsure if this was a pensive gesture, or her attempt at the art of seduction. "I've seen the way you look at me, you want me in your gang; you do." Her voice dropped several decibels and Callum had to strain to hear her, despite the fact she was just centimetres away from him. "You just don't know if you can handle me." Callum blinked dumbly, shocked. There was more to Emma than he had realised.

"Is that right?" Her eyes flickered between his lips and eyes and she waited. It came quicker than she was expecting. He'd been easier too hook than she'd expected. He ducked his head towards hers, his eyes closing; as he thought to himself that no, he didn't want her in his gang; he just wanted her. She pulled away, a triumphant smile on her face. "Yeah, I thought so."

"We should get going." Callum said, having fought to compose himself, wondering why all of a sudden he was so affected by the memory of Emma; it had been two years, he kept scolding himself. Part of him wanted to hate Allie for how she was distressing him, but another part of him wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool and protect her just as he had tried to do with Emma. He shuddered, acknowledging the niggle in his mind that reminded him that it was this 'protection' which had ultimately killed her.

"So that's it?" Allie asked, standing in the Sergeant's way stubbornly. "You have nothing to say for yourself?"

"Yes I do." Callum replied, looking at her straightly, reverting to behaving the only way he knew how. "Let's not fuck up Stevie's second shift which means being _professional_ DS Trewin." Allie laughed in spite of herself, shaking her head.

"It's not me that needs a lesson in professionalism, _Sergeant_. I think you and your Inspector need to have a look at the rule book again." She said, smiling sweetly all the time, before turning around and storming from the room.

Smithy had raced out Sun Hill as soon as he'd finished speaking to Callum. He'd noticed Allie looking at him strangely from the office, but hadn't stopped to ask her if she was ok. His mind was preoccupied by Stevie's phone call. He'd been distracted ever since she'd put the phone down, and was glad that Callum had agreed to cover for him for a couple of hours. He didn't go into detail; he hadn't needed to, Callum had understood straight away.

"I got here as soon as I could." Smithy said, as Stevie opened the door to him. She fell into his arms straight away, relaxing as he wrapped them tightly around her. From here, she didn't feel like Diego could reach out to her and hurt her like she knew he could. All thoughts of her shift later that day were gone.

"Thank you." Stevie said into Smithy's shirt, bunching the white material in her fists, not wanting to let go. Smithy pressed his lips against her hair, his thumb rubbing small circles into the small of Stevie's back. Eventually, Smithy pulled away, taking a good look at Stevie. "Have you been eating?" He asked caringly, examining the dark circles underneath her eyes, dragging his thumb along her cheek. Stevie avoided his gaze, her eyes darting anywhere but his. "Sleeping?" Silence, again. He dropped his hand to just below her chin, and lifted her face so she was looking at him. He dropped a tender kiss against her forehead. "Promise me you'll look after yourself." He asked. She nodded slightly, unable to resist the intense need in Dale's eyes. "I bought you some food too." Smithy added, holding out a takeaway bag. "I didn't know what you'd fancy. I hope this is ok?"

"Thai…" Stevie looked in the brown paper bag, and inhaled deeply, before breaking into smile. "You didn't have to…"

"Well someone has to look after you darlin'!" Smithy interrupted her with a stern tone. "Go and sit down, I'll bring this in." He instructed her.

Stevie made short work of the meal, offering Smithy a couple of King Prawns, albeit half heartedly – it really was too good to share, and he realised this, declining, smiling slightly as he watched the petite blonde devour the meal.

"Thank you." Stevie said earnestly, smiling up at Smithy who was sat next to her.

"I've got to be good for something." Smithy grinned, allowing her to snuggle into him. She laced her fingers though his, before moving so she was sat facing him. She leant towards him, keeping her eyes open, watching Dale's reaction as she drew nearer, smiling slightly as he shut his eyes in anticipation of her kiss. Their embrace was tender, and full of affection, with Smithy dragging his fingers up and down Stevie's back, sending shivers down the nape of her neck and along her arms. She pulled away, allowing her forehead to rest against his, as if she couldn't bear to be apart from him.

"You're not bad for that either." She whispered, before dropping another kiss on his lips. Smithy quickly reciprocated, pulling Stevie closer to him. Within seconds, the pace had changed from affection to lust, and forgetting where they were, they fell against the sofa, their bodies pressed against each other as they allowed their hands to wander. Smithy lowered his lips, kissing along Stevie's jaw, and down her neck to her collarbone losing himself in the moment, feeling only Stevie's hands knotting in his short hair, and her racing pulse beneath his touch. "Smithy… the cameras…" Stevie murmured, the small black device catching her eye from amongst a bouquet of flowers on the shelf opposite them. Dale faltered, following Stevie's gaze, groaning, wondering how they got so carried away. He sighed and sat up, offering Stevie his hand to pull herself up with. "You could always… come with me…" Stevie suggested, still holding onto Smithy's hand. She started walking towards the bedroom, before Smithy caught her around her waist, pulling her into him.

"Not now. Not like this." He said quietly, not wanting to rush into something whilst emotions were running high.

"We have a habit of doing this undercover, don't we?" Stevie mused, glad that between the two of them, they were together sensible enough not to do something they might later regret.

"I…" Smithy faltered, as he realised with some panic how his previous comment might have been understood. "I don't want this to be like the other times." He insisted. "I want to do it properly." Inside, a small fluttering caused Stevie's heart to skip slightly, partly at what Smithy had just said, and also at the shy smile gracing his handsome features.

"Good, 'coz you're not getting rid of me that easily this time." Stevie replied playfully, squeezing Dale's hands. "I ought to be getting ready for work. I don't think tardiness would go down very well y'ano. I have a really I'd be in line for more than a slap on the wrists this time!" Stevie added, screwing her face up at the thought of having to leave Smithy in favour of Diego Ruiz Gonzales. "But I'd much rather stay here with you." She hated how the minute Smithy's shift finished; her working day would only just be starting. Apart from a stolen couple of hours every now and then, which, with Big Brother keeping an eye on them, would be few and far between, the new couple would hardly see each other. Stevie couldn't help but think that she was living for the evenings during which Smithy might be involved in an OBBO at the club.

"I probably ought to warn you that Allie and Callum are going to be down at the club tonight." Smithy said, leaning his weight on the back of the sofa. Stevie stood in between his legs, her hands resting on his outer thighs as he looked at her, almost reading her mind. "Manson knows…" He added, by way of explanation. Stevie nodded solemnly. So maybe she wouldn't even be seeing him during her shifts then. She wondered just what would get her through the long evenings; until Eloisa's face popped up in her head. Yes, she was doing it for the helpless young lady that, against all odds, she had become rather fond of. Maybe it was more guilt; and she just felt indebted to her.

"Ok. Is there anything I need to know?" Stevie asked. Smithy shook his head, the case at the station had ground to a frustrating stand still, and it didn't look like that would change until Stevie brought some leads to the table.

"Be careful, yeah?" Smithy said, imploring Stevie with his eyes in a passionate gaze as he prayed she wouldn't come under the wrath of Diego. He'd heard about the emotional bullying; the hateful words and sneering comments, but he didn't think he'd remain so docile for long; because why would he for Stevie, when he didn't for his own girlfriend?

"Yeah." The single word alone was so charged with emotion. Spending an afternoon with Smithy when everything was relatively normal, with the horrors of her evening to come pushed to the back of her mind had been harder on her than she had realised.

"Don't go playing the hero. Remember that the best thing you can do to help Eloisa is keep your cover and help build a case against Diego. A man like him will never change his ways, the safest she'll be is when he's behind bars." Smithy said supportively, trying to instil some Stevie-like confidence into the young woman who he cared so much about. "You're doing a great job. Get to know the bar staff a little better, and keep tight with Eloisa. You'll be out of there in no time."

Stevie didn't say anything, her actions enough to speak a thousand words as she wrapped her arms around Smithy and buried herself in his embrace. Reluctantly, Smithy pulled away, knowing if he didn't know go now he never would. He walked towards the door, with Stevie a few paces behind him. He ducked down and pressed his lips against hers, the moment intensified by the fact their lips were still tender from their tryst earlier.

"Text me when your finished?"


	14. Retrogression

_Thank you to Holly for reviewing the last chapter, and also Bookworm for the PM - I hope your ankle gets better soon! It'd be really nice to know what you guys think about where this story is going._  
_Again I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it's one I've been planning for ages - I hope you enjoy reading it (I know it's a bit of a beast, I got slightly carried away!)_

* * *

**E1**

**Chapter XIV**

The drive to the club was spent mostly in stilted silence; similar to that of the journey Callum and Allie first took together. As Callum drew near to yet another red light in rush hour Canley, he started tapping on the door; the plastic against nails sound echoing around he car.

"Callum!" Allie snapped, glaring at him, with narrowed eyes. "Do you have to be so damn irritating?" She asked bitterly.

"Do you have to be so damn hormonal?" Callum retaliated, before he started the tapping again, at first slower, but gradually increasing in pace every time Allie glared at him. She sighed theatrically.

"Fine." She muttered, and turned her attention to outside the car; watching the world go by. If this was how Callum wanted to play things that was just _fine_ by her. Callum scoffed at her remark, before turning the radio on, pumping on the volume control until the base shook the car. Allie said nothing, but slammed her hand against the off button. "Stop being so _bloody_ childish."

"Is that the worst that comes out of your mouth darlin'?" Callum baited her, glancing at her quickly, his eyes challenging her to do her worst. She scowled at him, wanting nothing more than to string together a line of expletives and shove them down his throat; God knows she'd said it all before.

"If I've got to spend the evening with you, then do me a favour and just shut up." She warned, balling her fists until her nails dug so deep into her skin that the palms of her hands ached and her knuckles threatened to burst through the flesh. This didn't go unnoticed by Callum who smirked triumphantly.

Having queued up in a snaking line outside of the bar for fifteen minutes, Allie had spent the time with her back slightly turned from Callum, her arms folded tight across her chest. "Have you got any I.D., love?" The bouncer asked, putting his arm across the door, looking at Allie. Despite her lithe legs, elongated by her heels, the guard towered over her. She looked at him and laughed, unable to stop herself, before she put her hand over her mouth politely, and apologised.

"I'm sorry – I'm twenty seven, I've not been I.D.'d for years!" She explained, holding out her driving licence for inspection.

"Can never be too careful." The bouncer said, smiling as he handed back the card. "Have a good evening." He added, holding his arm back, allowing Allie and Callum entry into the club. As the pair were pushed into the throng of lingering bodies at the door, in struck them that this wasn't your typical night out; they weren't meeting anyone else. For the next four hours at least, they would have to hold things together, for not only their sakes, but for Stevie. Callum thought it might just send Manson over the edge knowing his predicament with Allie.

"Uh… drink?" Callum asked robotically.

"Cranberry juice please." Allie replied, looking around in search of a central area where they could keep an eye on Stevie. "I'll be over there." She added, pointing towards a booth that had, should they need it, views across the whole room.

It took a while to get noticed amongst the throng at the bar, but when he did, Callum was glad it was by Stevie. "Can I have a half, and a cranberry juice, please." He asked. She moved away from the bar quickly, not having quite looked him in the eye. Callum struggled to work out how he could check she was ok, as per Smithy's orders, without being blatant and risking her cover

"That's five-fifty." Stevie said, still not quite catching his eye, her gaze trained at the bar. Callum rifled through his wallet, pulling out a single note, and fifty pence piece. He caught her eye and handed her the money.

"Ok?" He asked, loading the word with double meaning, repeating 'are _you_ ok?' over and over in his mind, as if it would make a difference. Stevie smiled weakly and nodded.

"Great." Stevie replied, keeping their conversation to a minimum before being called down the bar by another punter. Callum made his way back to Allie, trying to keep their drinks away from the slightly-less coordinated individuals who were swinging their arms and legs around haphazardly on the dance floor. Whilst the bar was clearly more up market than your average London boozer; that much could be seen from the business types flooding through the doors, it also attracted some less than classy clientele. No doubt because of the extra 'goods' on sale, Callum thought to himself, as a pixie-like blonde strutted in front of him wearing a tight black leather skirt, teamed with a simple red camisole and viscous looking black heels. She had sixties style eye make-up bordering her eyes with a curvy flick at the end, and her lips were heavily rouged, accentuated by her model-like pout. He was surprised such a trashy look sold anywhere other than the street corner.

"Alrigh' handsome?" She purred, trailing her hand across Callum's stomach as she passed him. She didn't stop, leaving the officer gawping after her as she made a beeline for a well-to-do male in his mid-forties who was brandishing a bottle of champagne amidst a large group of smartly dressed males, all jeering and gesticulating.

"What was that about?" Allie asked as Callum sat down, the female officer eying the young woman with some distaste.

"I think she's one of Diego's girls." Callum shrugged. He took a sip of his beer, watching the girl closely.

"Your just like the rest of them." Allie muttered, wondering how Callum had managed to disgust her further within the space of a few hours. "Bit of leg on show; a glance of side boob and all the guys are gagging for a bit."

"I've got a plan." Callum said, tactfully choosing to ignore Allie.

"And I bet that involves drooling over that poor girl, right?" Allie retorted, raising an eyebrow sceptically. "Makin' a move even." She wondered out loud, before taking a mouthful of her drink.

"Is that what you think of me?" Callum asked, turning and facing her with a straight look on his face – he couldn't ignore her if it stopped them working together.

"You know exactly what I think of your professionalism." Allie replied simply.

"Look, at some point, we've got to get this moving along." Callum said, attempting, again, to put their differences aside for now. There was nothing he could do about that until he spoke to Manson and demanded a new partner. "We're getting Stevie out as quickly as possible." He said, thinking back to the promises he made Smithy earlier that day. "If they're doing what we think they are, there must be a back room, or something…" Callum started, dropping his voice and leaning towards Allie slightly so she could hear him over the din. "…So if she disappears with a bloke, I'll follow, pretend I meant to find the toilets or somethin'."

"So what'll… it'll be your word in court that one of the bar girls had sloped out back with a punter. They'll claim it was a misunderstanding. That the girl had taken a liking to a customer. That it was a one off. It won't work." Allie said stubbornly. "But maybe that's what you want. Innocently walk in on her with a client, see if you can pull the little boy lost act and score some action?"

"Oh fuck off, you don't know anything about me." Callum muttered offhandedly, just reigning himself in before making a comment about her shaded past, instantly feeling slightly guilty at what his runaway mouth had already spurted. He rarely, if ever, swore at a female; there was something a bit taboo about it, almost like packing a punch on the sly, but Allie had made one wise crack too many, and he'd had enough. "What else do you suggest Miss Marple?" Callum asked sarcastically. Short of bringing a film crew in, he didn't know what else to suggest. Asking Stevie to plant cameras was out of question; she was in too much danger for his liking as it was. He didn't think that would go down too well with Smithy either. He didn't know what, if anything, was going on, but everyone at Sun Hill saw there was something special there. And for Smithy to open up to him and admit just how worried he was about her, spoke volumes.

"Evidently nothing I say is going to stop you. At least pretend to record it on your phone so I half believe you're not just after an easy shag." Both officers were watch the pixie-like blonde on the dance floor, her body pressed up tight against the same aging businessman who'd had the champagne bottle. She stood on tip toes and whispered something in his ear, before taking a swig of champagne from the bottle, keeping one hand around it's neck as she lead the male away from the dance floor. "Classy." Allie muttered, raising an eyebrow, as the pair walked past their booth. "Looks like it's your time to shine." She added, looking at Callum who was fiddling with his phone, before pocketing it once more and standing up.

"Wish me luck."

"Urgh." Allie groaned, still convinced that Callum would get waylaid, even if he had the best of intentions. She doubted he had even that. Nothing would surprise her anymore.

As Callum followed a couple of steps behind, he lingered near the bar, deciding to give them a few minutes. Best-case scenario, he caught them handing over money. If he didn't get that, he'd get to see how good his improvisational skills were. Allie's insistence that he was some insatiable sex addict only fuelled the burning desire in him to get a result that pushed the investigation a little closer to it's close. "What are you doing?" Callum jumped slightly, hearing Stevie behind him.

"Just trust me." Callum said mysteriously. Stevie's eyes were wide with fear, as she wondered just what he had planned; he was known for bending the rules and acting out if and when it suited him.

"I can't afford for anything to go wrong. Not again." Stevie hissed dangerously.

"Like I said," Callum repeated. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"Ooh, if you don't watch yourself Erin, Diego will have you working out back." A young woman appeared from nowhere, pulling her brown hair into a high ponytail. Callum's ears pricked and he struggled not to show too much interest.

"What was that Danni?" Stevie asked, looking at Callum, her eyes wide. It was the adrenaline rush; the thrill of the chase. He knew the feeling well.

"Ah come off it; you must'a noticed!" Danni laughed, shaking her head, her eyes glittering at Callum. "That's why we get lookers like 'im in. Why would they come to a dive like this if there wasn't anything other than cheap plonk up fer grabs?" Stevie didn't say anything, reverting to the only police tactic she could still employ for the shock she was in. People liked to talk. They'd tell you anything if you gave them the chance. "The girls disappearing with some city type or another? Coming back thirty minutes later looking a bit… fulfilled." She smirked to herself, obviously privy to a private joke. "…Buggering off again to give a wodge of cash to Diego. As long as people want to buy it, he'll be sellin' it." Callum bit down on his lip to stop himself from smiling. Stevie was looking at the floor, also having a hard time of keeping a straight face, feeling like the cat that got the cream. Surely they'd have enough to get Diego for pimping girls out now? She thought that had had to be one charge checked off their long list.

"Danni! More discretion in front of customers!" Stevie scolded the teen fiercely, in a faux disparaging tone. "We don't want this lovely gent here thinking he's in some kind'a cheap brothel, do we?" She asked sweetly, glancing mock-apologetically at Callum. "Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement, sir, as an apology?" She asked, purely for Danni's benefit. She shot a warning look at the brunette. "I suggest you get back to work before Diego or Eloisa hear about this." Danni scarpered to the other end of the bar, not looking back. Callum and Stevie shared a small smile, before Stevie too, without another word, turned to serve some customers.

Callum was in two minds about whether to go in search of the back rooms. With his phone recording the whole of Danni's conversation, it wasn't necessary; but when did Callum Stone not go that extra mile? If he was going to bring Diego down he wanted the CPD to throw away his key.

He wondered into a narrow corridor with doors on each side. Looking beneath them, he could see most of them had the lights turned out within. He walked past one with a male toilet sign. His excuse for barging in on the couple wouldn't seem quite so dubious, he thought, pleased. There was one room, at the end of the hallway, that obviously had it's light on. He stood quietly behind it for a second, pressing his ear to do the door. Not giving it anymore thought, he pressed down on the door handle, walking in as if he had nothing to hide.

"Oh…" He mumbled, feigning shock upon seeing the peroxide blonde teen was down to a black lacy ensemble, complete with suspenders, silver handcuffs swinging from her left hand as she straddled the punter on the bed. "Sorry, I thought this was the little boys room." He added, by way of explanation. He turned awkwardly, slowing his movements down giving the girl a chance to speak should she wish.

"I saw you earlier." She drawled, untangling herself from the man beneath her. She dropped a kiss against his lips, dragging her finger down his chest as she walked around the bed towards Callum. He couldn't help but notice the disgruntled look on the poor buggers face as the girl slipped away. "You know, you could join us…" She proposed, her voice deep and husky as she pushed him against the door. Callum opened and closed his mouth involuntarily, unable to spit out a word, let alone string a sentence together. "It'd cost you mind, darlin'. Although, I'm sure you could pay. A gorgeous guy like you can't be short of a few bob, right?" She purred, her hand against his chest, prying a couple of buttons open on his shirt. "Maybe we could strike a special deal though…" She suggested, dragging her lips along his collarbone. "Seventy-five for the hour." She thought out loud, her breath hold against Callum's skin. "Or maybe I could knock it down to seventy. As a special favour…" The sudden talk of money snapped Callum to his senses. She might have been beautiful, but whatever Allie thought of him, he had never paid for sex and wasn't about to start now.

"I really was looking for the toilets." Callum said, pushing her away gently, and turning on his heel, throwing one last apologetic glance behind him. "No offence."

He fled the room, pulling his phone from his pocket as he did; stopping the recording, praying it was of good enough quality to provide some solid evidence. He stopped in his tracks, hearing a aggressive jeering from behind one of the wooden doors.

"You filthy pig. Brought some of your officers here, did you?"

"Joe, please. I didn't know." Callum jolted, recognising the second voice.

"I bet you didn't. No one did suspect it was me feeding all the intel back to Diego. And you call yourselves detectives." The slimy voice was punctuated by a crisp sounding slap, and the whimper of a female. "Just you wait… you'll get what's…" Callum burst into the room, anger bubbling through every vein in his body.

"Get your hands off her." Callum threatened his voice dangerously low. The male, Joe, had Allie pinned to the wall, his forearm pressed against her neck. "I said, get your filthy hands off her." He repeated, with a dangerously calm tone in his voice.

"Is he one of your coppers?" Joe snarled, throwing Allie against the wall with all the force he could muster in his body. Despite being quite a weedy looking individual, Callum realised from the vacant expression in Allie's eyes that he'd hurt her.

"If you don't put her down I'll be forced to do something I probably _won't_ later regret." Joe didn't move; if anything Callum swore he pressed his elbow further into Allie's neck. The gagging noise that escaped Allie's lips confirmed this; and it was enough to send Callum flying at Joe. "You're a little man ain't ya?" Callum said spitefully, bearing down on him with fire in his eyes. "Is this how you make yourself feel like the big man? By victimising women?" Callum only had one hand on Joe's shirt, but was able to throw him off Allie, pushing him with enough force to send him flying. "You pathetic piece of scum." Callum muttered, looking closely at Allie, not expecting her in turn to come flying towards him, pushing him out of the way, tears streaming down her face as she fled the room. "You better watch yourself." It would have been easy for Callum to knock him into next week from where he was, crumpled in a heap against the wall; but he drew himself up to his full height and thought about the allegations Allie had been throwing around. Maybe he could do this a different way, he thought uncharacteristically.

Callum raced after Allie, but by the time he'd reached the doors, twilight had already enveloped her, and she was nowhere to be seen. He pulled his phone, dialling her number, whilst running down the street. "Al… it's Callum…" He took a deep breath of air. "Where are you? Don't go too far. Ring me when you get this. Please." Yes, he admitted to himself, she was a fully grown woman, but she was new to the area, and he'd had the unfortunate luck to witness some of the worst that London could throw at it's inhabitants.

His pounding footsteps reverberated through his mind, along with Neil's warning from earlier in the day. Callum suspected this counted as the drama the inspector so wanted to avoid. He wondered if the audio on his phone would prove to be his and Allie's metaphorical get out of jail free card. The first pub Callum came to, he entered, making a beeline for the bar. "Have you seen a woman… really distressed, blonde, about 5'8" or so, wearing a multi-coloured dress? Late twenties?" The barman shook his head apologetically, but before he had a chance to say anything, Callum was well on his way, racing down the street, desperately trying a few more cafés and bars he happened by. It had been forty-five minutes; she could have been anyway. He'd taken a few turnings of the road E1 was situated on; he didn't even know if he was anywhere close. Callum couldn't think where she might have gone. There were no parks nearby, Sun Hill was miles away, as was her house. He half-heartedly entered another bar, describing Allie in the same way as he had each time before. By the time the female answered, Callum already had her back to her, resigned to the fact that her answer was bound to be the same as everyone else's.

"Sorry, sir… is this her?" She asked, pointing towards a crumpled body in the corner.

"Oh. Bloody hell Allie…" Callum sighed, striding out towards her, aware that the female from the bar, along with a couple of other customers were right behind him. "Allie!" Callum shook her slightly, picking up the glass that had been grasped loosely in her hand. He smelt it. "Vodka…" He murmured to himself, scrunching his nose at the putrid smell. He never had been a fan. It was good for one thing, and one thing only – getting absolutely smashed. So smashed you didn't know which way was up and which was down. So smashed that you totally forgot. She stirred slightly, her bloodshot eyes unable to focus on Callum. It was clear that the liquor had served its purpose. "Come on darlin', lets get you home." He sighed, putting a supporting arm around her.

"Uh…" The bar woman faltered, breaking her stunned silence. She couldn't believe she was responsible for this. All this damage, she thought to herself, caused in less than half an hour. "Are you her boyfriend?"

"No." Callum didn't have the time, or quite frankly the inclination to make polite conversation.

"I can't just let you take her. How do I know she'd be safe?"

"Does she look safe now, here, with God knows how much more of _that_ a couple of meters away?" Callum's outburst attracted yet more attention; the bar was silent now, other than for the spectators putting down their glasses against the wooden tables. "Look, I'm a police officer. She's a friend of mine. We've had a tough day, I'm not going to hurt her, I'll take her home, put her in bed, leave some water and aspirin next to her and try and get some sleep myself." The woman didn't look sure of herself. Had it been any other situation, Callum would have been quite impressed she was so intent on looking out for her patrons; but right now, it was just annoying. "I've got my warrant card if you don't believe me." He conceded, not usually a fan of waving it around, but admitting they were extenuating circumstances.

"Ok, ok." The woman said. "She's lucky to have you." She smiled slightly, not realising that had she seen them a few hours earlier, she might have contradicted herself. Callum tried not to wonder whether, if they hadn't been at each others throats all day, she might have felt able to talk to him, instead of drowning herself in the hard stuff. He knew something must have been seriously wrong for her to break thirteen years worth of hard word at beating her weakness; and Callum didn't kid himself that the only thing to have pushed her was Joe.

"How much has she had?" Callum asked, having hauled Allie up, supporting her weight as she fell against him.

"I dunno." The bar tender replied shiftily, looking anywhere but at the sorry scene before her.

"I said HOW MUCH?" Callum repeated, his tone low and dangerous. He didn't have time for games, he wanted to get Allie home.

"Six shots of vodka… a couple of double ." Callum struggled to contain his rage. Who the hell served a single person ten units of alcohol in an evening, let alone in thirty minutes? "I thought she must have had company. I only realised when…"

"I don't want to hear it." Callum retorted lowly, her jaw clenched tight. "I hope for your sake everything is sweet and done by the books here." He warned, fully intending to have uniform pop down the day after. Callum almost carried Allie to the door, ignoring the beady eyes that followed him across the room. He wondered whether the cool night would be enough to sober her up slightly. He leant her against the wall of the pub, watching her as she rolled so she was facing it, both of her hands bunched up by her eyes. Looking away for a second, Callum hailed a cab.

"Cal…" Allie murmured, scuffing her heels along the pavement as he lead her towards the opened door.

"Shh." He soothed. "It's ok." He gave the driver his address; ignoring the disapproving looks he was shooting him through the rear view mirror.

"Joe." Allie tried talking her again. "He…" She hiccupped, and placed a hand on Callum's shoulder, shakily pulling him to face her. "He saw me." She stated.

"I know he did." Callum replied patiently. "But your safe now." He insisted.

"But…" She fluttered her eyes closed, forcing them to open again. "S-hic-Stevie."

"I know. Don't you worry about her, though." Not that Callum thought she was capable of worrying about anyone in her state, but it kept her quiet. "Try and go to sleep." He suggested. "Sleep it off." The journey only took fifteen minutes; the streets of London mercifully quiet. He'd have to pick up his car tomorrow; he didn't fancy driving now. He was distracted and that could only lead to one thing.

Once they reached his house, Callum passed a note to the driver and gently nudged a sleeping Allie awake, guiding her out of the taxi, keeping one arm firmly around her, her balance shaky as she stumbled up his front steps. "Stay there." Callum said, leaning her against the wall whilst he fumbled through his pockets looking for his key. "Ok…" He helped her step into his house, and she fell down on the stairs the minute he let go to kick his shoes off. He knelt down in front of her, undoing the buckle on each of her shoes, placing them next to the door next to his.

"Has anyone ever told you you're preeetty?" Allie giggled mischievously, leaning towards Callum.

"Has anyone ever told you you're drunk?" Callum replied laughing. He watched Allie crumple backwards, her eyes suddenly filled with tears making them look like beautiful silver coins.

"I am aren't I?" She echoed. "I've ruined it all Callum. Again." She added, looking horrified as all the possible consequences of her actions rolled through her mind; only intensified by the alcohol raging through her.

"Hey, you haven't ruined it, Al." Callum sighed, sitting next to her on the stair, putting on arm around her slender frame, allowing her to melt into him.

"But I made a promise to Lisa. I promised her at her funeral that I'd never drink again." Allie sobbed. Callum wasn't sure whether she just had a case of emotional inebriation, or whether she knew what she was feeling. "I said in front of two hundred people… our friends and families, that I was going to change. Live for us both…"

"You've kept that promise for thirteen years – maybe now you can prove to her that you've matured enough to drink sensibly and that you don't have to ban yourself from touching it because you're worried about the consequences."

"But doesn't this prove to you, that stuff's like poison to me." Allie cried. Callum didn't know what to say, and instead of replying he allowed them to slip into a pensive silence.

"Why don't we get you into bed, eh?" Callum suggested after the tears and sobbing had subsided. "I'll sleep on the sofa tonight." He added, just to clarify before she got any wrong ideas. He stood up, and held his hand out for Allie, who took it, using him to steady herself as she walked upstairs. "It's this one." He motioned towards a closed door. "Make yourself comfy, yeah?" Allie nodded, underestimating the strength of the movement as it sent her head spinning again. Callum turned to go back downstairs, but stopped realising Allie was still clinging on to his hand.

"Thank you for… this." She smiled appreciatively. "You must think I'm a right liability!"

"I think your human." Callum replied kindly. "This doesn't make you a bad person; you've had a tough day… and I know I haven't exactly, you know, helped." He added awkwardly, taking blame where he felt responsibility was due.

"I gave as good as I got." Allie said, her tone quiet and full of shame as she looked at the floor. "I was a complete bitch, really." She laughed slightly at the end, but it was hollow and empty; unlike her usual vivacious, catching cackle that had been known to spread across CID like fire through a wood.

"Goodnight." Callum smiled, squeezing her hand, as he saw her stifling a yawn.

"Thank you. Again." Allie giggled, realising she was repeating herself. She didn't move for a second, and when she did, instead of moving towards the bedroom, she took a step towards Callum and reached up on tiptoes. For a second, Callum thought she was going to try and kiss him, until she placed her lips gingerly against his cheek. He wondered if, for the very same second, she thought she might have kissed him too. "Night." She murmured, smiling shyly, before darting into his bedroom, shutting the door and seeking solace by burying herself in the covers; only to find it did, if anything the opposite of relieve her. She felt like, once again, she was cocooned in Callum's arms.

Callum had spent the night tossing and turning on the sofa, getting more and more frustrated with himself as the crick in his neck spread to aching up the length of his back. Comfortable, his sofa was not. By 5am, light was flooding through the flimsy curtains and having tried for the passed few weeks to suppress a niggling thought in the back of his mind; he decided to do something about it. Something he hadn't done for two years, and something he thought he knew better than.

Manoeuvring awkwardly around the creaky steps, he went upstairs and tiptoed into his room, avoiding looking at the sleeping woman who was curled into the foetal position under the covers, her hair sprawled across her face. He grabbed some clean clothes, before jumping in the shower, hoping the water spilling over him might shake him to his senses. It was to no avail, and within a few minutes he was out of the door, praying he hadn't woken Allie from her much needed slumber.

He enjoyed the walk from his home, it took him through a nicer part of London; and he could almost kid himself that he was indeed in the countryside, rather than the centre of what was usually a buzzing metropolis. It was the start of what was going to be a lovely day, and the early sunrise had awoken the wildlife that was so scarce in the city, and the birdsong followed him with every step he took.

Around the corner from his destination, he picked up a bouquet of pink lilies, thinking she'd have liked the touch. He wondered if people still brought flowers. The last few hundred steps had Callum wondering if he'd made the right decision in coming out here. His heart was in his mouth. But it needed doing. On the outside of some ominous looking wrought iron gates, he paused and took in the granite sign on the wall to the left.

'St Matthew's Garden of Rest'

Callum inhaled deeply, as if stepping across the threshold would mean he was unable to breath.

He walked robotically down the gravel path, his shoes crunching against the stones. The flowers hung limply by his side. Callum diverted off the path having walked under a tree-lined stretch. At the third headstone along, he paused, closing his eyes, the moment effecting him more than he had anticipated. He bowed his head respectfully, before kneeling down to the side of the granite stone. He pulled the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand and wiped the dust and grime off the glossy green-black stone, his fingers feeling each of the engravings, before he allowed his eyes to drink in what they said.

'_Emma Keane_

_21__st__ January 1983 – 3__rd__ May 2008_

A beloved daughter, and friend; forever in our hearts'

'Every day begins with an act of courage and hope'

The words engraved in Emma's headstone had never really registered with Callum the first and only time he had seen it before that morning. He supposed that day he had been too wrapped up in his own grief to notice some of the smaller details of her service. He swapped the decaying roses that had been lying upon the grass before the headstone with the budding lilies, and in a moment of profound philosophising wished that it was just as easy to replace the old with the new.

"She's so like you." Callum mused, smiling to himself, reminiscing about the times he spent with Emma. "When she first walked into the nick I thought it was someone's idea of a sick joke. The more I get to know her, the more I see the similarities." Callum zones out and thinks back to that fateful afternoon. He's standing on the bank of the Thames with the doctor pushed against the rails. Emma's looking at him with all the reproach in the world. And normally that wouldn't bother him, but when it's coming from her, it feels like the worst thing ever. Two years on, it still does.

"_All this time I've been trying to get your approval." She spat vehemently. She looked upset with herself for admitting this, as if it was blemish against her name for wanting his admiration. "If I'd have known you were a bent cop, I wouldn't have bothered."_

"_You think I'm a bent cop?" Callum echoed, loosening his grip on the doctor, partly out of shock, and partly in an attempt to get her to change her mind. When she didn't say anything, Callum jumped immediately to the defensive. "Well you're not the officer I thought you were." He watched her crumble slightly before him. _

"_Well you're not the man I thought you were." _

"She thinks I'm bent like you did." He sighed dejectedly, absent-mindedly playing with a blade of grass between his thumb and forefinger. "It's never occurred to me that you thought I was corrupted the moment you…" He trailed off unable to finish the sentence. "I'm not." He added. "I know sometimes I'm a bit heavy handed. God knows my ways have been called unorthodox at times, but who isn't just a little bit unconventional in the police? It takes one to know one, eh? That's what we joked about…" He thought back to times in the pub when the team had come together to reflect about a tough day, whilst doing what they knew best: drinking the memories, the images and the pain away. Between a couple of the lads, it had been agreed that sometimes it scared them how many similarities they noticed between them and some of the crims that passed through Sun Hill. "People still talk about you down the station." Callum said. "I think you'd have been doing good, you know? Maybe you'd have got promoted to sergeant by now? Sergeant Emma Keane… or maybe you'd have followed in your father's footsteps and become Detective Sergeant instead…" Callum smiled with melancholy. "I bet you're dying to know the gossip, eh? Grace and the guv'ner have got it on… I bet you didn't see that one coming… I don't know if I was surprised or not – they've been at each other's throats for months; I guess it was inevitable really! Sort of like us…" Callum stopped and swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go before it choked him of his words. Having shredded the blade of grass he was fiddling with, his pulled up a stray daisy and started pulling the petals off it, letting them fall onto his jeans as he spoke. "Stevie and Smithy too… but maybe its just another undercover fling?" Callum speculated. "Sal resigned a little while ago too. She just upped and left. I don't think she ever got over what happened to you. She stuck with it for a while; maybe she thought she could make a difference and realised that… it wasn't that easy…" Callum paused, wracking his brains to think if there was more he could share, even if it was only to prolong the time he could spend with Emma before returning home. "Will transferred to another station and was promoted to sergeant… I bet he's right in his element…" Callum glanced at his watch as the sun peaked over the high wall surrounding the cemetery. "Allie will be up soon, I better get home and get ready to dole out the aspirin!" Callum chuckled to himself, and shook his head at the mess she got herself in. His laughter suddenly died as it dawned on him how he felt when he'd thought she was going to kiss him. "It's not because I'm forgetting about you." He stated. "I really like spending time with her… but I'm going to do it right this time." He said, thinking how wrongly he'd treated Emma. "It's complicated though… she's only here because of the undercover Stevie's on. She's from Devon and Cornwall Police… Newquay. And when the case is finished, I guess that's where she'll go back to. Part of me doesn't want the case to finish. But that's selfish really, I'm sure Stevie can't wait to get shot of it, and Smithy will be glad to have her back, an' safe. I bet Allie's dying to get back home to her family too." Callum looked up from the ground and stared aimlessly towards the trees, only really focusing when he saw movement behind one of the trunks. His heart skipped a beat as he saw figure had blonde hair tied up in a tight ponytail, and was wearing the same short shift dress as Allie had been wearing yesterday. Callum smiled to himself. "That's her over there…" He said. "Maybe I should ask her out on a date? Do things properly; even if maybe it will be hard." Callum stood up, running his hand along the smooth granite headstone, an endearing gesture, almost on par with ruffling her hair affectionately. Callum glanced backwards one last time, before looking forward to where Allie had her head trained to the floor, a noticeable blush gracing her cheeks that Callum had noticed even from his distance.


	15. Candid

_Thank you to ChestnutBrumby, Bookworm and Holly for reviewing; this one's for you - I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

**E1**

**Chapter XV**

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to intrude…" Allie said quickly, fiddling with the messy bun she'd pulled her hair into as she left Callum's house.

"You didn't." Callum assured her quickly.

"I followed you here… I know I shouldn't have…"

"Al, it's fine." Callum interupted. They both walked in silence to an iron bench underneath a row of huge trees that towered above them, into the heights of blue sky.

"I just wondered where you were going at 5am… I was curious." She looked at him uncomfortably, surprised to see no malice in his eyes as she had done plenty of times the day before. "Not that that's an excuse…"

"Something about the past few weeks made we want to come here… it's where Emma's buried." Callum explained quietly. "Emma's the girl I told you about." He added quickly. Allie smiled to herself; like she could forget who Emma was – all she'd heard since she'd started at Sun Hill was how she looked like the late police officer, and even how she'd managed to prise Callum's barriers down, like Emma has two years ago. She didn't think she was supposed to have heard that last bit though.

"You don't need to justify it to me." Allie smiled in her typically down-to-earth manner.

"I know I don't _need _to." Callum replied levelly. Allie allowed him to sit for a second, as he gazed blankly ahead of them, pensive. "I haven't ever let myself come back here since the funeral. It was weak of me, especially considering how we left things. Even after she'd gone I couldn't be a man and face her like I should have done. We both said some awful things. Really horrible. I hadn't thought about it until now; but it's horrible knowing that when she, y'ano…" Callum swallowed hard. "…Died…" he forced himself to spit the word out. "She hated me."

"I'm sure that's not true!" Allie said supportively.

"How did you feel yesterday about me?" Callum challenged her, turning to face her. She shrugged and looked shifty for a moment.

"I didn't hate you. I wasn't crazy about you, but I didn't hate you. Not for a second." She said earnestly, looking up at him through her lashes. It was the first time Callum had seen her without make up, and despite her heavy evening, she managed to pull off the au natural look flawlessly.

"Hmm…" Callum sighed. "The last thing she said to me was that I wasn't the man she thought I was. At that moment, I had a suspect pushed over some railings by the Thames." He laughed mirthlessly. "And I'd proved her right by using excessive force on that pervert, just to get a confession." Allie didn't know what to say – she hadn't bargained Callum opening up like this. She'd thought quite the opposite would happen. "You know yesterday, when Joe hurt you, I could have easily knocked him into next week but I didn't because… your words hurt yesterday too." Callum said quietly. Allie jumped slightly at the impact of his words, and couldn't help but look at him, startled.

"What?" She murmured.

"When you said I was bent, I wanted to prove to you, somehow, that I wasn't. If I was, then I'd have given that scumbag a piece of my mind." Callum explained, watching Allie carefully. He sunk lower in his seat when he saw her shrug.

"I don't know if it's that simple?" She asked rhetorically. "You and Smithy… Christ you looked mortified that I'd overheard you."

"_That_?" Callum couldn't help but laugh. "That's why you thought…?" Allie nodded. "Smithy asked me if I could cover for him for the afternoon whilst he went to see Stevie. Between you and me, I don't think she's coping too well with the undercover. Apparently she rang him yesterday and was in pieces. He asked me to keep an eye on her whilst we were at the club too." Thinking back, Callum could see why Allie had added two and two to make five.

"Then why look so guilty?" Allie asked, creases forming on her forehead as she frowned, confused.

"I didn't realise we did… maybe it was reflexive? Smithy didn't want you overhearing our little chat – didn't want you to think he wasn't all _man_." Callum put on a silly low voice at the last part of the sentence, and Allie couldn't help but giggle at him. "…And I didn't want you drawn into lying to the Inspector. He wouldn't have taken kindly to it."

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Allie said sternly.

"I've heard it said." Callum nodded in the affirmative, smiling cheekily.

"I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I was nasty. A complete bitch. I didn't deserve you looking after me having said what I did." She shuddered slightly, but couldn't help but smirk at the immaturity of their torturing the other.

"And I'm sorry too." Callum replied honestly. "Although after the tears last night I might have had some ground in calling you hormonal." He grinned, nudging her with his elbow to show he was joking. Allie cringed inwardly, wondering just how messy she'd been. "Friends?" He asked meekly, holding his hand out. She laughed at him and shook her head, encasing him in a tight hug that said all was forgiven.

"You wally." She smiled, pulling away before she got too comfortable in his arms again. This morning, she didn't have the excuse of inebriation to call to her defence.

"Come on, we should be getting back." Callum suggested sensibly. The pair stood up and Callum warily broached the subject of the previous evening. "How are you feeling?" He asked tentatively.

"Humiliated." Allie sighed. "Weak. Ill." Callum looked at her, his eyes full of worry. "I raided your aspirin by the way." She added, smiling ruefully, gingerly touching her temples. "Older but not necessarily wiser, I think is the moral of the story."

"We all get pushed to our limits by work. Sometimes drinking yourself on the floor seems like the best therapy." Callum said, talking from years of experience. "I wish you'd spoken to me instead, though." He added gently. Allie looked at him and sighed to herself.

"After the day we'd had…"

"You didn't feel like talking. I get it." Callum finished for her understandingly.

"Guv, Callum… Sergeant Stone and I need to talk to you." Allie said, having knocked on his door, and walked in without waiting for his reply. Neil looked up from his computer screen startled at the sudden entry, realising by the look on even Callum's face that something serious had happened.

"Sit down." He said. Allie looked around the room nervously, glad that Grace was in there too, just in case the DI's temper needed reigning in. "What's the problem?"

"Last night…" Callum started, before Allie interrupted him.

"Whilst we were at the club, I ran into someone I knew from back home…" She paused and took a deep intake of breath before looking at the floor to continue. "He was an ex-officer. Whilst we were investigating Diego and Eloisa we had a feeling that someone was feeding information back to them. We never found out who. A couple of months after the pair packed up, Joe Evans, a detective constable resigned. There was no reason to think it was connected. He cited family issues. No one heard from him again."

"Hang on…" Grace was leant against Neil's desk, listening intently. "You saw him, he saw you?" She clarified. Allie nodded, unable to look her in the eye. "I'm so sorry." She said.

"It's not your fault." Grace said, placing a supportive hand on the younger officer's shoulder. She looked at Neil who hadn't yet trusted himself to talk. Callum obviously noticed as much, and started talking quickly.

"But… We got some audio footage of a couple girls down the club. They were talking about the prostitution ring Diego's set up. They've got him stitched right up." Callum said holding his phone out to Neil. "I can show you?" He suggested, eagerly trying to dig Allie out of the hole she'd inadvertently dropped into.

"I'll take it." Grace said, taking the phone and smiling apologetically at Callum. "We'll listen to it later. I'm sure it'll be really useful."

"Joe Evans. How old?" Neil asked suddenly.

"Thirty-five; tops." Allie replied quickly. "He's a small man. Short, ashy hair. Browny-grey eyes. He's the most non-descript person ever. He was so quiet at work. A good officer, but the last one you'd suspect of, y'know."

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yes, sir." Allie gulped, and looked at Callum, who smiled and nodded supportively at her. "I was going to the toilet, he came out of the office and saw me. I tried to steer clear, but he pushed me into the room. Asked if I was part of another investigation, whether there were more officers at the club. Obviously I denied it all – just a coincidence."

"He assaulted her." Callum said bluntly. A dull thud escaped Allie's lips, as though all the air inside her had been knocked out.

"Callum!" She hissed.

"Is this true DS Trewin?" Neil asked formally. Allie stayed silent for a good few seconds, all the officers in the room with baited breath.

"Yes. It wasn't anything bad though…" She assured them. "He held me up against the wall, threatened me a bit…"

"Slapped you." Callum added, knowing Allie was about skirt around it. She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears as, for the second time in as many days she was reduced to feeling small and weak. Helpless even.

"Sergeant Stone, why don't you wait outside?" Grace suggested, looking at Allie, who immediately shook her head vehemently.

"No." She said stubbornly. He might have been a pain, but she wanted him there. Moral support. He knew more about her than anyone had done for years, and whilst the hysterical part of her felt vulnerable and exposed in front of Neil and Grace, the more rational side of her was comfortable in his company.

"Ok." Grace smiled at Allie but shot a warning look at Callum; if he said anything else, or pushed her too far, then he would be out of that office whether Allie liked it or not. "Do you want to carry on?"

"After he hit me, Callum came in. He pulled Joe off me and I ran. I didn't want to have to face the consequences."

"Callum what happened next?" Neil asked in a dangerous tone that suggested he knew only too well what his sergeant was capable of.

"I _told _him what I thought of him. I didn't touch him." Callum said explicitly. "I left the club and tried to catch up with Allie."

"Ok. And this would stand up in court?" Neil asked.

"Yes, sir." Callum said respectfully.

"Court?" Allie echoed.

"When the investigation is over; he'll be tried for assaulting an officer just like anyone else would be." Grace assured Allie, looking at her critically. "Why don't you and Sergeant Stone get a coffee?" Grace suggested softly, hoping that Callum would pull his weight and be sympathetic to the young woman. Allie sniffed and nodded, standing up, allowing Callum to walk from the room first, holding the door open for her.

Grace turned to face Neil, trying to gauge the expression on his face. She walked behind him, and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Ok?" She asked, using the same delicate tone with him as she did Allie.

"Yeah." He sighed weakly. "It's half eight. We've already got this huge problem that could compromise the entire case. It could put Stevie at risk."

"Well look at it this way, things can only get better." Grace said optimistically. Neil spun around in his chair so he was facing Grace and lifted his head in search of Grace's lips.

"We make quite a double act." He murmured. Grace smiled into the kiss, allowing it to break barriers that until now, they had kept carefully intact. His hands made their way to her face, before running through her dark hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

"Neil." Grace murmured, pulling away, her breathing heavy against his neck. "Stop… before…" She wasn't sure what scenario was worse; before they were interrupted, or before they went so far they couldn't turn back. "Why don't you come around to mine tonight?" She suggested, their lips still centimetres apart, their noses grazing, as if they couldn't bear to be separated much like too love sick teenagers.

"Sounds like a date." Neil smiled, raising an eyebrow mischievously. Grace said nothing but placed a kiss on his lips, several degrees cooler than their previous. "We need to sort this undercover out." Grace said sensibly, removing Neil's hands from her waist and going to sit in her chair, where she could trust not only herself, but also Neil not to get carried away.

The pair decided the best course of action was to tell Smithy what had happened and ask him to go around and talk to Stevie, bringing her up to speed. He would no doubt provide the compassion she would crave as well as the expertise to ensure her cover was not in jeopardy. Little did the officers at Sun Hill know, that across Canley, Diego was one step ahead of the team and had called an emergency meeting at the club. Two girls Stevie hadn't met before were sat in the office, as well as Becky, Danni, Eloisa and a male she hadn't met.

"Right." Diego growled. He was pacing up and down, his fingers running through his heavily slicked back hair. Eloisa was biting heavily on her lip, her face completely devoid of make up, showing dark semi circles underneath her eyes. "Last night we had the joy of hosting some of the local coppers." He watched the reactions of the girls who worked for him. Stevie felt her heart speed up, thumping against her rib cage. Her mouth was suddenly dry. "Joe…" Diego motioned to the male Stevie hadn't met before. "…Had the pleasure of meeting one of them; and where there's one, who's to know if there's more."

"The bitch lead an investigation against Diego and Eloisa last time." Joe muttered mutinously. Stevie wondered how he knew this, but now, she noted, was not the time to enquire. If Allie knew him, there must be a logical explanation; she'd have to talk to Smithy.

"If anyone so much as utters a word to anyone about _anything _be it the _white_ stuff or the _extra_ stuff," Stevie assumed he was talking about the drugs, not that she'd seen any so far; and the girls. It was too late for that, she thought triumphantly; he was caught hook line and sinker. Now she just had to befriend Eloisa and see what she could squeeze her for. That, she suspected, would be a bit harder. "If people come asking, act like you have no idea. If they keep on, then get me. No one gets anything apart from our regulars. We trust no one. Understand?" Everyone nodded, obviously not keen to get on Diego's wrong side, based on what his right side appeared to be like. Diego scanned the room, appeased, until he noticed Stevie. He scrutinised her for a second, and she was aware that all eyes were trained on her. "It is strange Erin, that as soon as you start here, all of a sudden we are having all kinds of trouble." He commented evenly.

"Uh… In my past jobs, police presence has been routine." She said, feeling as if she had just flushed violent red. Diego's lips formed a very thin line, but he said nothing.

"You can go." Eloisa said quickly. Everyone, with the exception of Joe scarpered from the room, muttering something about having a busy day, to get them as far away from each other, and the club as possible. "Erin!" Eloisa called after the fast retreating blonde. Stevie turned around, her heart pounding in her mouth. "I was wondering if, maybe you wanted to get some retail therapy? I have the day off and quite fancy getting away from this place," She looked around distastefully. "And Diego too!" She laughed.

"Yeah, sure." Stevie smiled. "How about we go and grab a coffee first, before I hit the harder stuff to calm my nerves?"

The two women made their way to a little bistro a couple of blocks away from the club, chatting amiably about nothing in particular. "Do you have a boyfriend… husband?" Eloisa asked, sitting down with a frothy cappuccino clutched between her hands. Stevie had chosen to go for a latte.

"Ah…there is someone, but it's early days." Stevie said evasively, unable to stop herself smiling slightly. She looked down at the table embarrassed.

"Awh!" Eloisa cooed. "Come on, tell me what he's like." She said, excited. Stevie couldn't help but blush. "You really like him, don't you?" She asked picking up on Stevie's hesitation. Acting completely unlike her, she smiled shyly and nodded, only just able to look Eloisa in the eye. "How long've you known him, Erin?" Stevie thought back, immediately able to recall the moment she and Smithy met. The lads had introduced her to him as 'Mouth', which had been a step up from 'Gob', as she had been upon meeting a couple of uniform. Smithy had laughed, but only when she too had gone along with the banter. He'd stuck his hand out and shook her professionally, before being called off.

"Three and a half years." She replied. Her mind fast-forwarded from her first day, to a few months later, when she and Smithy had shared a drunken conversation in some dive of a pub near the station after a joint CID and uniform case. He'd told her, that the next morning, everyone would know, in minute detail about her rendezvous with the karaoke, or her flirtations with the barman, but wouldn't know what got her ticking; what kept her awake at night. He'd then told her he wouldn't mind getting to know that side of her. Stevie had giggled, the vodka and coke before her providing her with Dutch courage. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling, and muttered something about knowing he would, before losing herself on the dance floor in amongst the throng of officers. Every now and then, Dale would catch Stevie looking at him, and vice versa, but they didn't speak for the rest of the evening.

"How did you meet?" Eloisa asked.

"Friend of a friend." Stevie said quickly, deciding that if you were being liberal with the truth, she met him through Mickey and Terry, who were both friends of the couple. "We've been friends for as long as I've known him. It's nearly led to something else a few times, but one thing or another always got in the way; you know how it is." Stevie explained.

"Ah, I hear the best relationships are those where your boyfriend is also your best friend." Eloisa smiled. Stevie sensed there was some wistfulness to this comment, and decided now was the time to steer the turntables in Eloisa's direction.

"Is Diego not… y'know?" She asked gently, taking a sip from her mug.

"I don't know." Eloisa said, with painful honesty. "I haven't had a best friend since before I left Spain I guess?" She thought for a second. "People have come and gone, but we've never stuck around in one place for long."

"Why move so often if you want to get down some roots and make friends?" Stevie asked, aware she was fishing for intel. She was interested too; she wanted to get to know the twenty-four year old girl for who she was, rather than the people she was associated to. Eloisa looked shifty, glancing up and Stevie every couple of seconds, as if she was sizing her up.

"You've been in this business long enough." She started quietly. "You must know how difficult it is for clubs to make profit?" Stevie nodded; she didn't know that – she'd have thought the opposite should anyone have asked, but Eloisa didn't need to know that. "Tax's, licences, paying staff for working unsociable hours, and then there's the rent and electricity and water… it's not cheap. It's the same back home. Diego got to know some people. They knew about his money problems and suggested he try a little extra earner on the side." Eloisa wondered how much she had to say before Stevie cottoned on.

"The prostitution?" Stevie asked.

"There's more too." Eloisa said, clearly ashamed. "I didn't want anything to do with it, but when Diego got involved, I was in too deep. I'd been cut off, and I was too ashamed to go home. I was young and naïve, I thought it might get better. But it hasn't." She was close to tears now. Stevie reached across and placed a comforting hand over Eloisa's. This was enough to send the young woman over the edge, her brown eyes big and shiny as she sobbed, trying to hide the snaking tears with a napkin.

"What can be that bad?" Stevie probed, feigning concern.

"Drugs." Eloisa whispered. "Cannabis mostly, Ecstasy too. Depends what else is on offer. He's not fussy; he knows it all sells."

"Jesus, Eloisa!" Stevie hissed.

"I try to talk him out of it. Say, what about settling down; having a family?" Eloisa pulled the sleeve of her cardigan up and reveals some bruising around her elbow. "That's what happens. He had a delivery today. We fell out about it last night. I always go out when we have it coming in, it makes me sick to the stomach."

"Why don't you leave him?" Stevie asked.

"And go where?" Eloisa whispered. "I've got a degree in English and Anthropology, from one of the best universities in the world; and look at me. I get alumni letters from Yale every so often, wanting to know what I'm doing; where I am. It has information about my class. There are lawyers, doctors, senates… and girlfriends of drug dealers." She lowered her voice at the last bit, her eyes stinging as once again the salty water threatened to overflow.

"Surely that means you can do something with your life? It's not too late. If you're so against drugs why not do some charity work or education; before Diego drags you down with him and you end up with a criminal record, wasting your life away in a grotty prison?"

"You don't understand, do you?" Eloisa said, imploring Stevie with her glassy eyes. "Diego isn't like your boyfriend; he's _dangerous_." She closed her eyes, before looking back at Stevie with striking earnestly. "When we were in Spain I had an affair. It was only twice, and it's not something I'm proud off. He was an actor. He's been in a coma for twelve months now. The only evidence against Diego was ruled as circumstantial. He said he'd been set up. I never needed to ask; I saw the blood on his clothes when I got home." The women continued their chat over coffee, each relaxing into the sofas as they divulged more about their pasts.

"I had better be going. The flat doesn't just clean itself!" Stevie laughed, draining the dregs from her second mug. Eloisa laughed, the pair sharing a knowing look.

"Diego and I don't seem to spend any time at home, but it's always a mess!" She agreed, standing up and shrugging her jacket over her slender shoulders. "See you tonight." She added, as she and Stevie stood at the door, sheltering from the bracing wind under a green and white striped awning, the café's attempt at Italian chic.

"Eloisa – what you said about the delivery…" Stevie started, trying to be as ambiguous as possible to save from attracting the attention of the clientele who were gathered outside. The brunette turned on her heel, worry etched into her brows. "You have to do more than leave to be seen as innocent." Stevie warned.

"What do you mean?" Eloisa asked, taking a step towards Stevie.

"I'm just saying, if the police are snooping around and they find something, then there's no reason why you won't be seen as guilty." Stevie explained. Eloisa looked panic-stricken for a second, but Stevie ploughed on. "And you know what they're like – once they identify someone as guilty then you may as well say goodbye to your freedom." She added; in a statement that, as much as it pained her, wasn't always as far off the mark as it should be.

"What can I do?" Eloisa questioned, her eyes cold and hard like dirty ice; this changing her demeanour from the carefree girl Stevie had spent the morning with. "Turn him into the cops?" She left with a withering stare thrown towards Stevie before stalking away, her heels hitting the ground hard as she fled.


	16. Last Stand

_A little bit of light relief for those of us who have just gone back to school/college/uni - I wrote this after spending ages on the most pretentious essay I've ever written - and only finishing half of it :( I couldn't face doing anymore work, so I got a little distracted!_

_Massive thanks to AlwaysHappy and Holly for taking time to review :) _

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**E1  
**

**Chapter XVI**

The previous night at the club had been tense; Diego had been watching everyone with more scrutiny than ever before. From Stevie's position behind the bar she had been acutely aware that less punters were being lead out back by the usually scantily clad bar girls – who, she'd thought it worth noting, were wearing more than the customary mini skirt and corset for the first night since she'd been working there. Stevie had wondered whether they'd been told to class up their act – they had, albeit marginally. She'd also heard Diego grumbling about how much money he was losing – 'a punter don't want pigs snooping' he'd muttered as he pushed past her to pour himself a whiskey. Stevie didn't know how his clientele knew about the police; she suspected they didn't really; and that he was using it as another excuse to whine. It was at that point she made a mental note to maintain a safe distance from him, because she'd noticed that Eloisa wasn't around to soothe his tantrums either.

The longer into the undercover Stevie found herself, the harder it became to tear herself from the quilt each morning; however today, she had an ulterior motive. Smithy had invited himself over the previous night, and she was looking forward to having some time with him, uninterrupted by work. It was a shame the cameras didn't have days off like Smithy, but that hadn't stopped the couple before, she thought with a slight smile pulling at her lips. By the time he came over, Stevie had straightened her hair, and pulled on a pair of slim fitting indigo jeans and a lose wine coloured top, teamed with her grey fluffy slippers that even in the summer; she wouldn't be parted from. She was relishing not having to slap the make up on as she did for work; as ridiculous as she knew it sounded, her face felt lighter and she could almost feel her pores breathing a sigh of relief as she walked past her make-up bag without reaching for any products.

"I know we said no work talk," Smithy said, after the pair had made their way over to the sofa. Stevie was leant against him, his arm slung languidly over her shoulder, his fingers grazing her skin in vertical motions.

"Mmm…" Stevie murmured, lacing her fingers through Smithy's.

"We had a note left in the station yesterday… an anonymous one." He said. Stevie sat up and faced the inspector, her legs crossed, their fingers still interlocked. "It said that there was a shipment due at E1 on Monday at 10.30." Stevie frowned.

"A shipment?" She echoed.

"It didn't say what; any ideas who it might have been from – or what it's about?" Stevie remained silent, chewing on her lip as she thought.

"I had coffee with Eloisa yesterday – she said that drugs were being delivered to the club whilst we were out…" Stevie explained how Eloisa always left the club when there was a supply coming in, and how she had suggested doing something proactive instead of letting it happen regardless of her morals. "Maybe she listened and decided that was the only way?" Stevie speculated, voicing her thoughts aloud.

"You think it's drugs?" Smithy asked.

"I don't know what else it could be – I know we make Gonzales out to be the Devil Incarnate but I don't think he's trafficking anything worse than a bit of ecstasy for a side income." Stevie shrugged. "Everything he does is to increase his profit margins."

"The DI wondered if it was a set-up to draw us to the club." Stevie couldn't help but snort at the idea.

"With all due respect to the DI, right, I don't think they're that switched on. My money would be on Eloisa taking the last stand." Smithy leant towards Stevie and placed a spontaneous kiss on her lips; the gesture chaste and fleeting, almost as if he was distracted. "What's up?"

"Just be careful; yeah?" Smithy warned, to which Stevie replied by smiling sweetly, before trying to look mock outraged.

"When am I not careful?" She challenged.

"I'm being serious!" Smithy retaliated hotly. "Between me and you; I think there could be a raid on Monday. I don't want you getting caught up in the shit that follows." He said sternly. Stevie pulled away slightly and looked at Smithy critically.

"What do you know?" She asked; assuming his sombre mood was an attempt at hiding something.

"Nothing." Smithy replied, his eyes giving away his honesty.

"Then where's the sense of humour?" Stevie probed gently, placing her hand tentatively on his cheek, rubbing slow circular motions into his skin; his one-day old stubble causing her the pads of her fingers to prickle.

"It's not something I can joke about, Stevie!" Smithy replied, looking away.

"Hey, come here." She murmured, pulling herself towards him, pressing her lips against his cheek. She continued to drop kisses along the line of his jaw until he gave in and their lips found each other, each falling into the embrace with a hunger that they both knew stemmed from the desire to be comforted, rather than the unbridled passion they usually radiated.

It was quiet in CID; however not quiet enough for Grace and Neil to slip in unnoticed, despite the early-bird start. Allie and Callum had turned up at eight-thirty, deciding they wanted to gather momentum on the E1 case now that evidence was starting to stack up against Diego. Truth be told, it had been Allie who had elected to get a head start, but with some gentle persuasion, Callum had agreed to the early start too.

"Oi – Callum, look." Allie nudged the sergeant who was slumped on the desk in front of the laptop, frustrated that he couldn't get any answers as to whether the audio clip he'd got from the club would stand up as sufficient evidence in court. He spun around in his chair and looked out of the window, following Allie's finger to a black car in the corner of the car park.

"Jesus!" Callum smirked, seeing two figures emerge. Neil, he noted, was looking around; he suspected trying to ascertain whether anyone had seen them. Grace, however, looked much more at ease – he could have sworn there was even a small smile gracing her lips.

"Must be serious." Allie grinned, prizing the slatted blind open to get a better look. "D'you reckon they've just come to work together… or spent the night?" She asked, raising an eyebrow speculatively looking at Callum with a cheeky smirk on her face.

"I hope it's not the latter; I can do _without_ those images this early in the morning!" Callum replied, shuddering.

"I dunno, I bet the DI's a right tiger in the sack…" Allie replied, trying to keep a straight face. Callum did a double take, and looked down at the younger blonde incredulously.

"How can you even joke about that?" He asked, feigning emotional trauma. Allie rolled her eyes at his melodramatic actions and turned to face the window, just in time to see the couple outside share a fleeting, but emotionally loaded moment. She smiled to herself; there was something about them that spread contentment through her. She couldn't quite put her finger on it; it wasn't as if she knew much about them after all. In her imagination, she saw their relationship as stable and tender and supporting – something of a fairytale – something that every girl dreamed of. Maybe, she continued to speculate, it was that in the moments she'd seen them together, they seemed so comfortable with each other; or possibly, it was because it gave her hope that if they were happy, then true love must exist; even in two lives so dominated with the horrors of the London streets. Allie always had been a hopeless romantic.

Neil had barely stepped into Grace's house before they were lip-locked with fervour no one would have accused them of. "I've been wanting to do that all day." Neil murmured, pulling away for a second and drinking in Grace's appearance. She had changed from her work attire into a delicately patterned, earthen-toned tunic, teamed with dark jeans. She smiled, but looked away from his gaze and turned herself towards the living room.

"Do you want a drink?" Grace asked, walking through her lounge into the kitchen, burying her heard in the fridge where she retrieved a bottle of white wine, and placed it next to the red that was on the counter. "Red or white? Or a beer?" She asked. "Or I can stick the kettle on?" Grace felt a presence behind her, just as Neil snaked his arms around her waist.

"We're not going to do this again." He said, referring to the last time he'd spent the evening at Grace's. For some reason, his presence out of work crushed her to an anxious wreck; and she either didn't talk, or like tonight, got the nervous rambles. "It's me, Grace, you don't have to put on a show." He added, pressing his lips against her neck as his fingers ran up and down her sides. She didn't say anything, but blushed at his words, her own caught in her throat along with her breath, at the feeling of Neil's hands roaming her body. His lips were hot against her skin and his body pressed against to hers made her feel a million years younger than the woman she was. Grace allowed herself to melt into Neil's embrace, the nerves that had conquered her brushed away with his touch. She turned herself in his arms and allowed her hands to roam unchecked, hesitating only when they came to the hem of his shirt.

In that split second, everything that there was to contemplate shot through her mind; how this would alter everything, how their relationship would change, not only romantically, but also the repercussions Neil could face with Jake, and not to mention at work – after all, it wasn't the first time he'd got involved with his staff. This led her thoughts onto a different track; was she all that different to the others? Grace decided it didn't bear thinking about – only time would tell.

"Are you ok?" Neil asked, sensing Grace's apprehension. She smiled and nodded; besides the consequences, she thought to herself, _it_ had been a while. Grace found Neil's lips, and as they met it was with novel commitment in an embrace more affectionate than ever before as they both realised were this was going. Grace moved herself away from the counter, trusting herself not to need the support, despite the fact that Neil's touch made her weak at the knees. They found their way into the lounge, and Grace slipped her hand into Neil's and gently tugged at his arm.

"Upstairs." She breathed, not looking behind her, in case her prince turned into the frog. As she leant against the door to her bedroom, Neil stopped and pulled her towards him, and tucked his thumb under her chin lifting her line of vision to meet his. She felt herself quiver slightly under the intensity of his gaze; a look full of lust, respect and… _love_?

"I don't want to rush us." He said, by way of explanation, in a tone bursting with sincerity. Grace smiled to herself. _'Us'_. She liked how that sounded, especially when Neil said it.

"_We_ aren't." She replied defiantly, this time her hands not wavering as they reached the hem of his shirt, instead ducking under the material and grazing against his toned torso. He closed the gap between them in another slow, sweet kiss, allowing himself to be pushed into the threshold of her room; Grace using a force that challenged his gentleness and resulted in them falling against the bed. Each had a nervous smile playing on their lips as they faltered for only a split second, hands frozen against the other, eyes locked with anticipation, with nothing but the ardour of the moment overwhelming their thoughts.


	17. An Eye For An Eye

_Hey :) Massive apologies for the huuuuge delay - I had wanted to get this up before I went back to school, but that just didn't happen... and it was so long ago I can't even remember why! But it's quite a long to make up for my complete ineptness at uploading! Anyway, this is going to be one of the last chapters... I'm thinking there may be one more, possibly two depending on what track of ideas I choose - partly because things are just crazy and I don't have the time to be writing as much, and also because it is coming to fairly natural end._

_Thank you as ever to my lovely reviewers - you've stuck at it for a long time!_

_Em x_

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**E1**

**XVII**

Neil had asked everyone to meet promptly on Monday morning, and by the time he got to the incident room, there was a nervous energy rippling through the office. All of the officers knew about the anonymous note that had been left at the station the week before, and Smithy wasn't the only officer to have speculated about the possibility of a raid.

"Right; let's get straight down to business. Last week I had some meetings with the DCI and Superintendent, and the general consensus is that we want to get Stevie out of the club as soon as possible. After the… _incidents_," Neil looked around the room, pointedly allowing his gaze to linger on Smithy, Allie and Callum who's OBBOs at E1 had been less than plain sailing. "…We don't feel it's safe for our covert presence, so if _we_ can't safely check up on Stevie, _she_ is no longer safe either." Neil paused and looked around the room, all eyes were on him, each harbouring a slightly different expression but managed to mirror the same feelings. Raids were one thing when one of your own wasn't involved, but Stevie was a much-loved member of the group, and to say that upped the ante would be an understatement. "We've managed to secure a Trojan unit this morning, for what we hope to be a straight forward search of E1. I want to stress that the armed response team are going to be with us for precaution only." Neil allowed his words to sink in. "Any questions so far?"

"Do we know if Stevie is going to be there?" Allie asked from the back of the room. It had been the question on all the officers' lips, but none had allowed their morbid curiosity to be fed.

"Yes, she will. But there's no reason why that should change anything. She's only been told about the drugs by Lopez, so as far as Gonzales is concerned there's no reason why she should be anywhere near the handover. If she is, then I trust your professionalism. She'll be arrested along with everyone else so her cover isn't blown – from all accounts, she's got quite close with Lopez, and that could be useful." Neil said. He glanced at Smithy whose pallid complexion showed of the sleepless night he'd endured, worrying about Stevie no doubt. He'd heard one too many stories of how Diego had been very quick to blame Stevie, and he didn't want her getting caught in any crossfire, metaphorical or literal. To CO19, she was just another officer, another number, and to Diego she meant even less than dirt. That scared him more than he could comprehend.

"I want everyone out in the car park at 9.30, the handover is scheduled at 10.30 and I'm not taking any chances at missing it, understood?" It was a rhetorical question, nobody answered, nor were they left time to before Neil continued. "We've had these people on our radar for a long time now and we've finally got a chance to do something; to make a difference on the streets, but I don't want any heroics." Neil paused and allowed his gaze to hang over Callum and Smithy for the second time that morning. "We don't know how big an operation we're dealing with – Diego's got links all over Europe; for all we know we could be about to wade in on something bigger than we have anticipated, so I want you all to be aware of that very real possibility. But, I believe I've got some of the best in the business, so if anyone can deal with an international drugs haul…" Neil left the sentence hanging, leaving the team wondering just why he was being so sentimental – this wasn't just your average pre-raid pep talk. Allie nudged Callum and smirked her eyes darting between the Inspector and Grace.

"It must be love." She whispered. "He's gone all corny!" She added. Callum tried to keep a straight face, ended up with a lopsided grin gracing his features as he glanced at the clandestine couple.

"Before you go, pairings for today…" Neil glanced up from his notes, just in time for Callum to replace the smirk on his face with a more serious look that was apt for the situation. "DS Trewin, you'll be with DC Dasari and I want you co-ordinating from the control unit which will be located here…" Neil pointed to a backstreet around the corner from E1. Allie sighed to herself and looked at the floor, disappointed that she wasn't in on the action. Over the few weeks she'd been at Sun Hill, she felt like she'd made an impact, but maybe not. "You understand that my decision is based purely on the fact that you know Joe Evans, and isn't a reflection of you as an officer." Allie looked up and attempted a smile for the inspector; she respected his decision, and saw the logic, but that didn't appease the petulant girl inside her from insisting that it just wasn't fair – how come Joe Evans, the weedy, nerdy loser she'd thought he was, had uncovered all these demons for her four hundred miles from home? "Sergeant Stone and Inspector Smith you'll be in one of the unmarked cars along with DCs Webb and Banks and myself in another. DC Dasari is currently briefing uniform who will be accompanying us." Neil allowed this information to sink in before dismissing the troops. "Remember your stab vests!" He called to their retreating backs. As Callum and Smithy exited, Neil called them back. "Right, I'm going to put this bluntly. DC Dasari and I thought that by putting you two together we might have a hope in hell of keeping you under check. Each of you in responsible for the other and if I hear that one of you has even been thinking about attempting to play the hero, I'll have you demoted so quickly you won't know what's hit you. Do you understand?" Neil asked, a look in his eyes that would freeze hell over. He meant this.

"Sir." Both officers replied, unsure where to look, deciding instead to scarper before they could be read any more of the riot act. The pair slumped down on some chairs in CID and Smithy's head fell into his hands.

"You alright, mate?" Callum asked. Smithy mumbled something incoherent into his arm, not lifting his head. "Stevie will be fine. She's a tough one."

"Not as tough as she'd have you and I believe." Smithy sighed, lifting his head from his self-indulgent moroseness. Callum conceded that he was probably right on that one, but didn't know what to say; he was already well out of his comfort zone. "Her position there had been so dodgy for the whole case, I just keep thinking we have to luck out at some point, y'know?"

"Maybe it's not luck?" Callum shrugged. "Stevie's got undercover in her blood – she's ex CO10, if any of us can pull this off it's her." Smithy didn't say anything; put dropped his head back into his hands, willing the next hour and a half until the raid to go quickly. The officers spread themselves strategically around the station, each mentally preparing in whatever way they knew how; be it drowning themselves in seclusion, overdosing on the bad canteen coffee or having a last minute cram-session to revise the case notes.

"All units, from Control, a white BMW X5 has just past us going west along Calder Lane, registration plate lima-lima-six-one-sierra-mike-romeo, over." Allie said into her radio, instinctively sitting lower in the chair as the vehicle drove past, checking her watch. They were early: it was only twenty past ten.

"54 to Control, we have sighting." Smithy replied a couple of minutes later from his and Callum's vantage point across the road from the club. "They've pulled into a loading bay outside of the club." He continued. The eight officers in the unmarked cars each felt their heart rate increase as they watched, unblinking to see what happened next.

"All units stand-bye." Neil muttered, unclipping his seat belt, his action mirrored by Mickey and Bansky in the front of the car.

"All units from Control, Trojan Unit one has just pulled up behind."

A tall, grey haired, aging male emerged from the car, his fading jeans holed in the knee. He was wearing a rust coloured t-shirt that looked several sizes too big, and several years too old. Diego sauntered out of E1 just moments later, his appearance a jarring against his unidentified companion. He was dressed in black, wearing a pair of tailored pinstripe trousers and a fitted shirt with an expensive looking sheen to it. Both men turned their heads, washing the area with a cautionary glance, however no one thought they really looked into their surroundings, for they carried on, ignorant of the waiting officers. The older of the two figures leaned into the boot of his car, retrieving a cardboard box. By the manner he hoisted it up, with his back arched and arms straining, the officers could tell the package was heavy.

"54 to Control, we have an IC1 male carrying a large, heavy package into the club." Smithy's voice once again crackled over the radio, keeping Allie and Grace in the loop. The CCTV they had playing into the back on the van showed an inadequate, grainy black and white image that jumped every few seconds. The women sat with baited breath, neither moving their gaze from the screen.

A few minutes passed of radio silence.

"All units go, go, go!" Neil's voice reverberated through the respective cars and vans, and from behind the control van, sirens could be heard as the Trojan Unit roared to life, racing down the street and coming to stop outside the club. The mix of CID and uniform waited behind the armed officers who burst through the club doors, firearms brandished dangerously.

"Police!" A chorus of officers shouted into the vast expanse before them, each running in different directions, not stopping as they barged past the startled looking staff who were cleaning behind the bar. Smithy caught sight of Stevie, who had fear etched into every centimetre of her face, as she was unable to conceal her surprise. Several of the younger girls gravitated towards her, each emitting high-pitched squeaks as they sought safety in numbers. He faltered for a moment, his gaze falling on her frozen form. He snapped out of his reverie when she shook her head, her movement tiny and almost imperceptible. He understood completely in that second: to screw things up now, was more dangerous for her than the raid itself. If they didn't finish it off as they'd intended to, Diego would get away, and there was no knowing just how volatile he would be.

Sergeant Stone and Inspector Smith, along with two CO19 officers took off towards the toilets where Joe Evans had apprehended Allie the previous week, whilst DCs Webb and Banks along with DI Manson and several more armed officers made their way down into the basement. The remaining uniformed officers split, several staying near the main doors, with the others heading to the fire exits.

"Clear!" Mickey's voice was just a distant echo from the basement, but Smithy's voice came from closer.

"Guv'ner!" He hollered. "They're in the office!" Three men, Diego, Joe and the dealer had turned like rabbits caught in headlights, cornered in the small room by the four officers. The pounding footsteps of the remaining officers could be heard getting closer and closer. In a moment of panic, Diego launched himself towards the armed officers, the same large box that IC1 male had brought into the club firmly in his grasp. The first armed officer fell backwards slightly as Callum and Smithy flicked their asps from their pockets, each closing the gap between them, sealing Diego's pathway.

"Put the package down, and put your hands in the air." Smithy said calmly, raising the black metal weapon in his hand. He didn't break eye contact with Diego, even when his dark eyes flitted to every corner in the room, as if looking for a crack in the wall he could slither into. "I said, drop the box, Gonzales." Smithy repeated, his tone dangerously authoritative. Diego still didn't move. From behind the Spaniard, there was sudden movement and within a split second Joe Evans' diminutive form was in front of his boss. His was clasping a small pistol between his hands, his arms outstretched. The CO19 officers that had gathered outside pushed their way into the office, all five of them mirroring his action, within a split second, their weaponry undeniably more imposing than Evans'.

"Put your weapon down, and get on the floor." One of the men said, calmly and clearly.

"It's you!" Joe snarled, seeing Callum's face in the crowd behind the armed officers. "You dirty fucking pig. I should'a known when that slut came snooping around that she was going to make a fucking mess of things. Stupid cow didn't ever know what she was letting herself in on. Didn't back home, and still doesn't now. She always underestimated what I'm capable of. Well I'm going to show the stupid bitch just what I'm made of. Show everyone that I'm not the weedy little PC Evans they thought I was. I don't answer to nobody, not anymore." Joe fired the pistol, a muted crack coming from the firearm, before several other pops burst from the room, muffling the strangled cry that ripped from Callum's lips as he fell against Smithy. Disembodied whimpers could be heard behind them, presumably from the girls in the bar. The officers were standing open mouthed at the bloody mess before them, only Callum and Smithy preoccupied. Joe's body had fallen with a dull thud against the floor, lying in a puddle of sticky crimson liquid that was dribbling from between his arm and torso, as well as his upper thigh.

Smithy pulled Callum from the room and propped him up against the wall outside the office. He watched as his sergeant paled before him, his lips a ghostly shade of pink, his cheeks tinged with yellow. Taking the belt from his jeans, Smithy buckled it tightly above the gunshot wound on Callum's left shoulder, and lifted the Sergeant's head so their eyes met.

"You're ok." He said, pulling the radio to his lips. "54 to Control, I'm requesting two ambulances urgently, I repeat _urgently_, to the E1 club on Calder Lane, we've got two shot wounds, one possibly fatal." He released his grip on the radio, and was, for the first time, aware of the commotion around him. It had taken three officers to detain Diego, and a fourth to cuff him and read him his rights. The dealer was pinned up against the opposite wall, PC Roberts conducting a quick search whilst PC Ryder held him still, despite being battered with a string of verbal abuse.

"I didn't know they were letting hot totty in on the job now. I mean a little woman like you out on the cold hard streets of London. I guess that's the Met's idea of a good joke, innit, love? As far as I'm concerned you can't trust owt that bleeds for a week and dun't die, so I dunno why my taxes should pay your wages..." Mel recoiled slightly from the last comment, but Nate was ready to grab hold of his shoulders. He slammed him back against the wall, leaning close to him.

"That's enough." He muttered, his voice low. "It's this 'little woman' that had you pinned up against a wall with bugger all you could about it, so I suggest you shut your trap and leave any more comments for the interview room." And he proceeded to drag him from the club, admonished, at least for now.

"Leon, Ben, I want you to cuff the girls and take them in." Neil called from the office, where he'd pulled on a pair of standard issue purple gloves to have a quick look in the box that had fallen next to Joe's hand. Next to him, Banksy was checking the pulse of the stationary male. He dug his fingers hard between his neck and chin, desperately looking for a rhythm.

"He's gone, guv." He muttered, shaking his head at the sorry sight before him. The only thing that appeased Neil at that very moment was the kilos of white powder he had before him.

"He'd probably only have got a suspended sentence." Neil sighed, not wanting to let himself look at the body for too long. He could clearly see two puncture wounds, but didn't doubt that there would be more. He wouldn't have been surprised if all four of the CO19 officers had fired once he'd shot.

"Such a waste." Bansky agreed, stepping away from the body, before remaining silent for a good minute or so. "How much?" He asked, replacing his compassionate head, with his pragmatic detective's mind.

"Two to three kilos or so I'd say. Maybe a little more… we're looking at a street value of about five or six grand." Neil speculated, leaving the box where it had fallen and moving out of the room, closely followed by Banksy. They practically fell over Smithy who was desperately trying to keep Callum talking.

"…You and Allie, she seems like a nice girl." He said, he'd tried everything, talking about work, family – he was really clutching at straws now. "Callum! Come on; tell me about Allie, you two have spent ages together. You must know everything about her now." Callum smiled slightly, his eyes rolling in their sockets every few seconds. "Callum!" Smithy kept trying. "Do you like her? I saw that smirk Sergeant Stone!"

"She…" Callum's voice was quiet and raspy. "She's way too good for me." Callum said, attempting a smile.

"Rubbish!" Smithy said quickly. "Come on, stay with me Callum!" He added, adjusting the impromptu tourniquet he'd wrapped around his arm. "When you're better, maybe you can ask her out before she goes back to Truro?" Smithy suggested. "I can see it already, you know, a nice meal for two before showing her the sights."

"Mmm…" Callum didn't say anything else, interrupted by a female voice breaking over the radio.

"Control to 54, ambulances ETA four minutes." Grace said, before the radio went dead.

"Smithy, it's Allie. Who are the casualties?" She asked desperately. Smithy could hear heavy breathing down the other end of the line.

"She's worried about you – hear that, mate?" He said, nudging Callum who had only the energy to twitch the muscles in his face in a vague and fleeting smile. "Joe Evans shot Callum." Smithy sighed. Across the street, Allie failed to keep in a strangled sob. Grace pulled her into a motherly hug, slowly rubbing circles into the younger officers back.

"And the fatality?" Allie asked, her heart pounding heavily against her chest.

"It was Joe." Smithy replied. "Callum's got a shot wound to the arm. He's going to be ok, though, aren't you?" It was a rhetorical question, but Allie was disappointed not to hear a response from the Sergeant.

"I need to get out." Allie said, unable to breathe in the stuffy van. She stumbled out onto the pavement, revelling in the fresh air, and the reality check that the cool breeze brought with it. Yes, she was terrified and helpless, but Callum was the victim; not her, she chastised herself. She watched as two men were marched out of the club, followed by several women, one of whom she recognised to be Stevie. They were all deposited in a riot van before it, along with several of the unmarked police cars sped off, blues and twos raging, towards Sun Hill.

Callum was rolled off the ambulance, the paramedics reciting a wave of information to the receiving doctor. "We've got Callum Stone, thirty-two. Penetrating wound to the upper arm. Tachycardic, BPM one-fifteen. Hypertensive, BP one-o-one over sixty at scene, falling to seventy-nine over fifty. Query stage three hypovelemia. Estimated thirty percent blood loss, compensated with one litre of IV fluids. Confused and agitated in transit." The trolley was rushed into A&E, with Smithy following closely behind.

"Dr Greg Turner, I'll be Callum's doctor, can you tell me what happened?" The young doctor asked, falling into step with Dale.

"Inspector Smith, Sun Hill." Smithy said formally, waving his warrant card in front of the doctor. "He was shot during a raid about thirty minutes ago. It was fairly close range." He added, as they made their way into the resuscitation area, a couple of nurses rushing around the room, preparing monitors and various contraptions that were hanging from the walls and ceilings.

"On my count, I want him moved onto the bed, has everyone got a piece?" Dr Turner asked, as four pairs of hands latched onto a corner of the board Callum was splayed out on. A murmur of consent rippled around the bed. "Ok, three, two, one…Staff Nurse Phillips," The doctor turned his attention from Callum, and looked at one of the nurses in the corner of the room. "I want Us+Es, FBCs and glucose tests, and I want you to cross match a litre of O negative and set up immediate IV access. I also want blood gases, and oxygen saturation levels ASAP, with half-hourly obs." As Greg dictated, she was busy scribbling down some notes.

Throughout the next half an hour, people came and went into the private cubical, and Smithy only left when instructed that he was obliged to whilst Dr Turner, along with another male doctor removed the bullet from Callum's arm. When Smithy returned, Callum was sleeping off the anaesthesia, a respite from the fitful angst that had gripped his body during the ambulance journey. Smithy turned to the nurse who was currently checking Callum's fluid levels. "How's he doing?" The rhythmic beating of the heart monitor the only give away that the sergeant was actually okay, his ashen complexion not filling Smithy with a lot of optimism.

"He's stable. He'll be just fine." She replied, smiling supportively, walking around the edge of the bed to place an understanding hand on Smithy's shoulder. "Dr Turner is, unfortunately, very experienced in treating gun shot wounds, and I've seen patients in a more serious condition walk out of the hospital just fine after being under his care." Smithy didn't say anything, still reeling from the morning. He glanced at his watch. It was only half past eleven, and he was already sat in St Hugh's, somewhere he spent an increasing amount of time.

"I need to, uh, make a call. If he wakes up can you let him know where I am." Smithy said, the emotionally devoid, sterile room making it hard for him to think straight, the smell of bleach clouding his mind. Escaping the confines of St Hugh's, the Inspector pulled his phone out and rang the station.

A knock on the interview room door interrupted Neil mid-flow. "DC Webb has entered the room." He muttered for the tape's benefit.

"Can I borrow you for a second, sir?" He asked formally. Not that Neil would have admitted it, he was glad for Mickey's interruption. Diego was proving harder to get through to than he had anticipated. He was feigning a language barrier, claiming not to understand the DI, or Grace at all, despite grasping his solicitor's vocabulary very well.

"Interview suspended…" She glanced at her watch, hovering over the tape recorder. "Eleven thirty-four." The trio left the interview room, and followed Mickey a few steps from the door.

"I've just taken a call from Smithy. Callum's stable, and they've retrieved the bullet for evidence. He's sleeping it off." Both Grace and Neil let out a sigh of relief, serenity spreading over their features, even if it was only for a split second, before Grace ran her hand through her ebony hair; all thankfulness gone, replaced by a look so fraught with worry and stress. It was all Neil could do not to pull her into a soothing embrace then and there, in the middle of the station, to hell with the consequences.

"Have you told Allie?" Grace asked, remembering back to the young woman's anxiety back at the club. Mickey nodded in affirmation.

"Yeah, she was in CID when I took the call." He added. "Is anyone with Marcus Brandt?" The only way in which the team had managed to identify their mysterious dealer was by running his prints through the system, to find that he had been in prison several times before, in Liverpool and Plymouth, and wanted in Birmingham, for drug related crimes.

"No, not yet. I think Allie wanted to lead the interview and we'd thought it best to let him sweat it out a bit until this afternoon." Neil replied.

"Ah, well good luck." He said, motioning towards the closed interview room before retreating down the corridor. Neil pushed down on the door handle behind Grace, ignoring her questioning look. She stepped in, listening to Diego and his solicitor in conversation through the one-sided glass.

"Are you ok?" Neil asked, turning Grace to face him as he placed his hands on her waist. She smiled and looked up at him, appreciating his concern.

"Yeah, I am. We always seem to underestimate this part of the job. Getting this far is always hard enough, and so when we get them into the interview room, that should make things easier." She mused. "It doesn't." She and Neil shared a brief embrace, with him placing a spontaneous kiss against the top of her head.

"How about we call it a morning, go and grab some lunch, and let Diego think we're talking to Marcus, whilst Marcus thinks we're talking to Diego." Neil suggested, looking down at his better half, who smiled enthusiastically. That sounded like the best idea of anyone's in a long time. "And in the meantime, we can get Mickey to organise a translator so the smarmy git can't keep slithering away."

"Maybe we can go and see Callum too?" Grace suggested, wondering how they'd fit that into their hour-long break. Neil gave Grace a quick peck on the lips, not chancing anyone walking in on them, before suggesting they get back into the interview room before Diego started getting arrogant.

"DI Manson, and DC Dasari re-entering room, interview re-commencing…" Grace checked her watch as she and Neil took a seat. "Eleven forty-five." She looked at Diego, not rushing with her speech. Neil sat back in his chair, one hand supporting his head thoughtfully. Diego looked between the two of them, seeming unnerved. "That was an interesting conversation you were having with your solicitor, Mr Gonzales." Grace commented. She turned to face Neil. "For someone who can't speak English, I have to say, I'm impressed, aren't you Inspector." She added. In her periphery, she noticed Diego glance quickly at his solicitor.

"N-n…no comment." He mumbled.

"We're going to give you the benefit of the doubt. We're organising for a translator to come and sit in on the interview, and in the mean time, we just thought we'd let you know that we've had the drugs back from the lab. Two-point-four kilos of marijuana… let's see, a class-B drug, possession with intent to supply… I'm thinking ten years plus…"

"And a fine as well…" Grace interjected nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders, as she scrutinised the man before them, who was shrinking into his seat by the second. "Deportation, maybe. You're wanted for crimes committed in Cornwall as well as Spain."

"And we've heard rumours of soliciting in your club too, so you can add another six months onto your sentence." Neil continued.

"But that's just something to think about." Grace shrugged. "Interview terminated, eleven-fifty-three."

"Good afternoon, sunshine." Nurse Phillips sang, seeing Callum flicker his eyes open as she was conducting her regular observations. "You're in St Hugh's hospital." She continued, putting down her clipboard and walking to Callum's side. She placed her hand over his and smiled down at him. "Is there anything I can get you?" Callum shook his head, regretting his actions as it head span. "It's probably best not to do that, my dear, the drugs will be playing havoc with your balance as it is." She advised. Smithy stifled a smirk, biting down on his lower lip as Callum grunted at the nurse. "Well, you've got a very good friend with you, so I'll leave you to have a catch up. If you need anything, be sure to give me a call, but I need to go and have a chat with your doctor, okay my love?"

"Jesus, sorry for leaving you with her." Callum mumbled in her wake, not quite waiting for the door to his room close before commenting. Smithy snorted; glad to see Callum hadn't lost his sense of humour.

"How are you feeling?" The inspector acted compassionately.

"Like death warmed up." Callum replied, smiling as if he'd just told Dale that he was on top of the world. He looked down at his arm, the upper part heavily bandaged. "What's the damage?"

"Considering the amount of blood you lost, I thought Evan's had hit a major artery, but you were lucky. The doctor reckons there'll be a bit of scarring, but he stitched you up after removing the bullet." Smithy produced a clear plastic bag with a small circular wad of metal inside. "Difficult to see how such a little bullet can cause so much drama, eh?" He mused.

"Obviously not as hard as I like to think I am." Callum laughed, trying to smother a yawn. "How's everyone else?"

"Evan's didn't make it, but everyone else is fine. Gonzales had been arrested along with the dealer, and all the girls' in the bar." Smithy said, quickly skirting over Stevie's presence at the club. He hadn't had a chance to talk to her yet, and whilst he was sure she was fine, he'd had her worried face etched into his mind since the raid that morning. He was about to add something else, when Grace and Neil walked into the room, Grace clutching a bar of chocolate.

"Alright?" Callum smiled.

"We should be asking you that!" Grace replied. "We thought you might need some sustenance." She added, handing over the bar of chocolate. "Although it might be best to save it for after you get discharged!"

"Thanks." Callum smiled gratefully. An awkward lull fell across the room.

"We had to stop interviewing Diego." Neil offered, fidgeting from one foot to another. "Apparently he doesn't understand English." Both Smithy and Callum let out a string of expletives under their breath. "We decided to let him fester until this afternoon, but if the worst comes to the worst, I don't think his co-operation will be necessary. We've got the drugs, the firearm is in the lab for finger print testing, and I'm sure some of the girls will 'fess up something. And if all else fails, Stevie's cover is still intact so she can talk to Eloisa."

The conversation carried in a similarly awkward manner, until Grace had the good sense make their apologies.

"I can't get my head around those two." Callum mused to their retreating backs. Smithy followed his gaze, before looking back to Callum.

"What?"

"Neil and Grace – they've been seeing each other on the quiet." Callum said. Smithy was surprised, but chose not to make a big deal out of the new information he had – just like Neil had respected his and Stevie's privacy, he had the good grace to do the same. "Allie and I saw them together a couple of days ago."

"You and Allie, huh?" Smithy said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Callum looked away for a split second, before smirking.

"You and Stevie, huh?" Callum mocked.

"Touché!"


	18. Moving On Up

_Happy Christmas everyone! Ok, I know it's been a long time, but I thought I little light hearted fluff was called for, with it being the season of good will and all that ;) _

_One chapter to go, and possibly an epilogue or something, depending on what I include in the next chapter. January exams coming up, but hopefully I'll be able to finish it before I lose the thread of where I'm going (again!) _

_Thanks for sticking with me... still, it's much appriciated!_

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_**E1**_

**Moving On Up**

Allie had been sat over Callum's bed for some hours now, attempting to keep herself awake by any means possible, whilst Callum was deep in a drug induced slumber. She had only five days left in London, and truth be told, she didn't want to leave. She felt like she'd found her place – eventually. She'd been uncertain at first, and that had shown in her attire; the dresses, the heels and the makeup. Over the weeks, this had changed. Now, she was happy to turn up in jeans, with her long blonde hair scraped messily off her face, devoid of makeup. She was one of the team.

"How long've you been there?" Callum asked groggily, without fully opening his eyes.

"Oh, not long." Allie lied, having already been chastised by Callum for wasting too many of her final days in London watching over his bedside.

"Why do I not believe that?" Callum mused. Allie chose to remain silent. "Can, uh… Can you help me up?" He added, his voice quieter, the proud sergeant ashamed at not being able to help himself. Allie stood up, and placed her arms around Callum, attempting to take some of his weight as he sat up, attempting not to think of where her fingers were grazing his taught, well-defined biceps.

"Comfortable?" Allie asked, concerned, seeing the lack of focus in Callum's eyes. He'd been in hospital for five days now, and whilst the doctors were assuring them it was merely a precaution, Allie had her doubts.

"Mmm… I think the morphine is wearing off." He sighed, looking down at his bandaged arm, before looking up at Allie and smiling ruefully. She was suddenly aware of her hands, lingering on his torso. She blushed slightly, looking down at the suddenly small man before her. She remembered that the cold exterior was just that, a façade. He was just like any other human: capable of being broken and blemished, not only physically, by gunshot wounds, but metaphorically too.

"Do you want me to get a nurse?" Allie asked, resuming her seat.

"Nah… it's a novelty being able to feel anything!" Callum laughed.

"You don't have to be a hero." Allie reminded him, raising her eyebrow slightly. "Not in front of me." The pair sat in silence for a few moments.

"Have you got any plans for Friday night?" Callum asked, acutely aware of Allie's forthcoming departure. He didn't like to admit it, but he was confused about how he was feeling about a Sun Hill without Allie. They hadn't got off on the best start but they had well and truly made up for that in the subsequent weeks. There was something about the depth of feelings he had harboured towards Allie: be it in the animosity, which had grown into… well he wasn't sure what it had blossomed into, but he was certain that the lack of indifference meant something.

"No. I don't want any fuss." Allie said; her West Country lilt more distinct with her defiant tone.

"You need to do something. I need some incentive to get out of this place!"

"Who said you'd be invited even if I did do something?" Allie smiled playfully. Callum's heart sped up slightly at the sparkle the comment elicited in her eyes, and the slight pinkness her retort had brought to her cheeks. "And you've got plenty of incentive to get better – surely being cooped up in bed is enough?"

"I'm quite enjoying being waited on hand and foot. The nurses are enough to brighten up my day!" Callum grinned.

"It's the drugs doing funny things to your head. The only nurses I've seen have been fifty-something, grey haired women." Allie quipped, causing a low chuckle from Callum. "Unless that's what you're into?" She giggled, cocking an eyebrow suggestively.

"Uh, no!" Callum smirked hotly, not even entertaining the idea. "I thought hot nurses were meant to be one of the perks of getting shot." He grinned.

"Your inner chauvinist will just have to make do with me instead!" Allie replied, the insult from their early days causing Callum to scowl at her; to which Allie merely grinned at him.

"And what a poor second you are." He muttered to himself, whilst thinking 'if only she knew'. For a split second, he thought about telling her. But telling her what exactly? He didn't even know what it was he felt about her: all he really knew was that he didn't want her to go back to Newquay. Allie didn't even pretend to be insulted, she just smiled, and reached out for his hand, placing hers over the top and squeezing it tightly. He wondered if, maybe, just maybe, she knew how he felt. The act was too much to just be fate. Wasn't it? Callum shook his head, reprimanding himself for allowing this sudden rush of confusing emotion to get to him. It must be the drugs, he concluded. When was Callum Stone ever ruled by his heart, after all?

Several hours went by of idle chat before Callum persuaded Allie to go home. He got straight on his phone and organised for everyone who had worked on the E1 case to go to the pub on Friday evening. By then, the court case – which was considered as nothing more than a formality – would be over, and so hopefully, if Allie was still adamant she didn't want any fuss, then they could be celebrating the conviction of major drug dealers instead.

Smithy leant over Stevie's desk, watching what she was typing, hoping that his faux-interest was enough to fool CID. "My place tonight?" He asked, whilst pointing to something on the computer screen. Stevie smiled to herself. Finally they had an evening to themselves – no CCTV, no false pretences; just an evening for them to spend as a couple.

"Only if you're not cooking!" Stevie replied glancing across at the inspector.

"Deal. I clock off at six, I'll pick up an Indian on the way home." He smiled, allowing his hand to linger on her shoulder before he moved away. He didn't know why they were being so secretive, but he supposed until they had The Talk, they were best to keep things hushed.

Stevie stood up from her desk and followed Smithy out of CID, walking quickly to catch up with him, before falling into step with him, and pulling him into the female locker rooms.

"You're lucky no one's in here." Smithy said, after having a quick look around the room. They didn't want to have to explain this away. Stevie pressed her back against the door and looked up the Inspector, placing her fingers through the belt loops on his trousers.

"You see, we've got a bit of a problem." Stevie sighed. Smithy closed the gap between their bodies, placing his hands on the small of her back.

"Oh yeah?"

"I just can't keep my hands off you." She smirked, biting down on her lower lip. "Especially when you're in that uniform." She added quietly, running her hands up his torso, before pressing her lips against his in a moment of uncontrolled passion. Smithy was quick to reciprocate, his fingers rubbing circles into her back as he fought for dominance, his lust for her intensifying as she nipped his lip to gain entrance to his mouth.

"I see." Was all Smithy could manage when Stevie tilted her head away from his. "I… uh, we do seem to have a bit of a problem."

"And as much as I like… this…" She smirked. "We can't keep it up."

"I guess we'll just have to… sort something out this evening then won't we?" Smithy replied, his voice full of desire and need. Stevie leant up on tip toes and placed the briefest of kisses against Smithy's lips, moving away before they had the chance to lose control.

"See you later." She smiled, before ducking under Smithy's arm and darting out of the room before he could stop her. She needed to get a report finished for the CPS, and that wouldn't happen if she and Smithy got… distracted, again.

Grace was sat in Neil's office, absentmindedly flicking through a file whilst Neil finished a phone call. It was fifteen minutes into their lunch break, and for what remained, Grace didn't see the point of leaving the station.

"I'm so sorry about that." Neil sighed, dropping the phone back in the cradle. Grace only smiled, not trusting herself with words. Why couldn't he have just called whoever it was back? "Come on, I'll make it up to you." He insisted, standing up and shrugging his coat on. Grace remained seated. "Grace, I'm sorry, but it couldn't wait." He explained patiently, holding his hand out for her. "Can we at least just get out of the station? I want to talk to you." Grace wondered how she could refuse that, and her curiosity getting the better of her. She took Neil's hand, and allowed him to help her into her coat, before handing her the cream scarf she'd left on the side. She wished he wasn't always such a gentleman, especially when she wanted nothing more than to feel justified in seething about him.

The pair walked out of the station, and waited until they were walking through a nearby park before Neil reached for her hand. He just hoped that none of the Sun Hill officers were on foot patrol there. He led them towards a bench and waited until Grace had taken a seat before he joined her. She had said very little to him between there and the park, and even now was refusing to look at him, instead choosing to focus on the grass and dirt on the floor. "Grace, look at me." Neil insisted, squeezing her hand. He heard her sigh, but she did make eye contact for just long enough for Neil to place a chaste kiss on her lips. "What's up?" He asked sincerely.

"I… well; you always seem to put work first at the moment." She said honestly, looking at him. "Not just today with the phone call, but the other night you were working late so you were late to my place, and…"

"…I'm sorry." Neil said quickly. He knew she had a point. She'd been painfully honest with him, and so he decided to share the same courtesy with her. "I'm finding this, us, hard. Now we don't have the excuse of the E1 case to spend time together, it's just taking a bit of… adjusting. It's what I wanted to talk to you about." Grace found her breath hitched in her throat. She was convinced that this was it. That Neil was about to bail on her, the first time the going got tough. She went to open her mouth, but Neil cut her short. "Just hear me out." He insisted. Grace nodded mutely. She noticed that he hadn't let go of her hand; but if anything, was holding it tighter. "I've heard some… talk, rumours, if you will. And it got me thinking… I think we should tell people about us. I don't want us to be a secret anymore, Grace. I feel like we're tiptoeing around everyone and… I love you…" Grace wasn't able to stop her mouth from dropping open. "All the secrecy and the lies… I feel like a teenager again, Grace."

"It's the secrecy and lies that are keeping us our jobs though." Grace reasoned sadly.

"I don't care – I _love_ you, I'd move station's if it meant we could be together. I know it's not been long, but…" Neil didn't know where he was going with this, he was hoping Grace would jump in and save him from floundering for too long.

"Do you mean that?" Grace asked.

"Yes! Of course I do!" Neil laughed. "It's only a job." Grace never thought she'd live the day to hear Neil say that – it would have been fair to say at one point that his job was his life. Neil leant towards her, allowing her to close the gap between them, capturing the moment with a sweet embrace.

"I love you too." Grace murmured into the kiss, smiling shyly as she said those Three Words. "Maybe we should talk to DCI Meadows first. Just to see if he'll take our guts for garters." Neil looked bashful for a second, before Grace piped up. "Unless you've already spoken to him… which is fine!" She smiled, her stomach fluttering as she realised that Neil was completely serious about them. "What did he say?"

"Officially, he respects our privacy and as long as we maintain a professional relationship at work, then he is happy for us to go on working together for the time being. Unofficially, he said that he has suspected something was going on for a long time, what with me making you joint SIO in the E1 case, and about time! And to treat you well." Grace could help but laugh at the last bit, but was elated by all of it. Jack, one of the biggest obstacles to them being together, had been more supportive than she could have dreamed of. "I thought maybe we could mention it as an aside when we go out for drinks on Friday with the E1 team."

"Ok." Grace couldn't help but smile at the idea – yes, she was nervous, but with a few drinks inside her, and everyone else, she was sure it would be easier, and certainly less formal than doing it at Sun Hill. The couple kissed again, this time, allowing the embrace to linger, with Neil pulling Grace closer, and running his hands through her hair. "We should get back." Grace murmured, glancing at her watch, before Neil captured her lips once more, before reluctantly standing up. Now, he felt like a teenager; but no longer in a bad way – he hadn't been with a woman who he couldn't get enough of for as long as he could remember. They locked hands, and started the walk back to the station in higher spirits than they had left, entertaining themselves with what they thought their colleagues' reaction would be to their being together.


	19. The Last Goodbye

_Two uploads in a week... I don't know what's happened to me! Anyway, this is the last proper chapter, but never fear an epilogue is on the way to tie up some lose ends... I'm on a roll at the moment, so who knows, we might have another update before the New Year! Thank you to my lovely reviewers, it means a lot that you take the time to leave a message :) _

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**E1 **

_Chapter 19  
_

It was the second day of the court case. The day before, the forensics had been presented to the jury, and by all accounts, Allie had heard it went well. Grace had told her that it wasn't _if _Diego got convicted; it was _when_, and for how long. Allie would have thought should have given her hope and confidence. If anything, the opposite was true. She wanted the scum off the streets for as long as possible. Drugs were easy enough to get hold of without hotspots like E1 being allowed to thrive; as only she knew too well.

Allie wrapped her towel tight around her head and stood in front of her wardrobe hoping for inspiration to strike. She rifled through the hangers and came to a stop in front of a sheer cream blouse with an oversized bow tied at the neck. She paired it with high-waisted brown trousers and some nude heels that added several inches to her height. She smoothed down her clothing and turned in front of the mirror, twisting to see every inch of what she was wearing.

Glancing at the clock, Allie realised that she had only half an hour until she needed to leave to pick Callum up. He was due out of hospital today; something which had been forced by his duty to give evidence against Diego. She just hoped he was up to it. Knowing she was short of time, Allie quickly blow dried her hair, before pulling it back off her face, into a demure ponytail, that fell in waves and flicks, finishing about half way down her back. She kept her make up minimal, leaving the house with a tiny amount of foundation on, mascara and some lip balm.

"Allie!" Callum caught her attention as she walked towards the hospital entrance. He was stood to the left of the revolving doors, a small holdall in one hand and a jacket in the other.

"You idiot! You'll freeze!" Allie reprimanded him, snatching the bag from his grip and ushering him towards her car. "How long have you been waiting for me?" She asked, having folded him into the car, and fastened his seatbelt, momentarily forgetting that he was thirty-three, not three.

"Oh, stop fussing; the fresh air'll do me good!" Callum retorted, batting Allie's hands away from him. For a split second, the pair locked eyes, before Allie looked away, unable to stop herself from smiling. They were bickering like a married couple.

"How are you feeling?" Allie asked sincerely, after she'd navigated their way out of the hospital car park.

"Better. I came off the morphine yesterday… the last week's a bit of a haze. I remember... well I remember getting shot, and I…" Callum stopped, and chose instead to turn the radio up. Allie wasted no time in turning it down again.

"What?"

"Well, I remember you… a lot." Callum said quietly. Allie smiled to herself, but kept her eyes on the road, choosing simply to turn the radio back up. For the rest of the way to the courthouse, the pair sat in silence, lost in the idle chat of the DJ and his guest.

"Detective Sergeant Allie Trewin, you have been at Sun Hill now for eight weeks." The prosecution lawyer said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, DCI Meadows organised for a temporary transfer from Newquay where I'd been involved in a case against Ruiz Gonzales." Allie replied.

"And this is where you met PC Evans."

"Yes..."

"And can you describe him for me?"

"He was so quiet." Allie started, talking slowly and thoughtfully. "He was a good officer, kept his head down, and got the work done. We all thought he used his initiative, asked all the right questions, and kept right up to date with the case file. Of course, now I suspect that this was to keep Ruiz Gonzales up to date, rather than himself."

"And this is supported by some emails that have been recovered between the suspect, and the deceased. On the screen are a selection of the ninety or so emails recovered from the E1 office computer, dating from as long as two years ago, right up to six months ago." The jury all turned with interest. "Ms Trewin, when you and Sergeant Callum Stone were in the club, can you describe Mr Evan's conduct towards yourself." Allie recounted the evening, looking at the jury, imploring them with the deepest candour. The questions continued, and moved on to the night Callum was shot. Forty-five minutes later, the prosecution sat down, and Allie breathed a sigh of relief, before Diego's lawyer stood up, a tall, imposing man of about forty.

"Ms Trewin, is it true that you studied at Oxford?" He asked. Allie was taken aback. She looked to the judge for support.

"Keep to the point." He muttered, eying the lawyer suspiciously.

"And before your time at Oxford, is not true that you were heavily addicted to drugs – both legal and otherwise?" Allie felt like the air had been kicked from her lungs. She stood, silent, her mouth open, suddenly dry. Allie watched, as if in slow motion at the jury, who all suddenly recoiled. She readjusted her gaze to the gallery, desperately trying to seek out Callum, until she remembered that he was yet to give evidence, and so was waiting outside. Allie had gone cold, only realising that she was shivering when hot tears started rolling down her cheeks. She'd been exposed, in front of her current Inspector, and DCI, and the revelation threatened the whole case.

"I… I was very young. It was a year of my life that I deeply regret. I've been clean for ten years, and it is this that inspired me to become a police officer. I wanted to give youngsters a chance – I wanted to get dealers like Ruiz Gonzales off the streets." Allie admitted, looking at the floor, ashamed of herself.

"So do you admit that your… _vendetta_ against my client is purely personal? That because of your past, you were compelled to travel half way across the country in order to continue harassing him after your case collapsed?" The defence lawyer banged his fist against the wooden desk before him, causing Allie to wince.

"No, it's not like that!" Allie insisted, her vision blurring once more as tears pooled in her eyes. "It was a purely pragmatic decision taken by people above me so Sun Hill had some continuity in a case, which ultimately got thousands of pounds worth of cocaine off the streets of London. You can't deny that; it was seized at the club!" Allie tried to reign herself in, aware that if she wasn't careful, the jury would write her off as not only a drug addict, but an ineloquent floozy who was unable to construct an argument without losing control. The questions changed tack after this: luckily for her, and Sun Hill, the lawyer was obviously content that he had caused enough disrepute to her reputation.

Allie ducked out of the courtroom and fell against a bench lining the stone walls. Grace and Stevie came rushing towards her, with Neil close behind, each harbouring a slightly different look on their faces.

"Are you ok?" Grace asked, sitting down next to her, and putting a supporting arm around her shoulders. Stevie crouched before her and squeezed her hand reassuringly Neil remained standing awkwardly in front of the three women.

"You should have told us." Neil said simply. The women looked up at him, and his sharp sentence was enough to break down Allie's last remaining barriers completely. Tears came flooding down her face, and sobs wracked her body.

"I'm so sorry." Allie cried, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She was sorry for a multitude of things: for not telling Neil of her past, just in case; for ruining months of hard work: not only for Sun Hill, but for Newquay too; and on a personal level, for letting down her friend Lisa. The defence was right; Allie was in too deep with the case: it was personal.

"Well don't be… you carried on." Stevie reassured her, handing her a tissue. Allie looked up at Neil. He didn't look so forgiving. Everyone was called back into court, and initially, Allie didn't move.

"Come on, there's a seat for you in the gallery." Grace smiled at the young woman.

"No… I think I need some fresh air." Allie replied, attempting a shaky smile.

"Callum's up next. He'll need your support." Stevie said gently. Allie stood up in silence, deciding that after she'd looked around for him so desperately, and been so disappointed that he hadn't been there, she wasn't going to subject him to the same.

The jury had finished hearing all evidence to be presented by 2pm, and it took them just thirty-five minutes to come to a decision. Everyone had reassembled in the gallery and there was a nervous energy rippling through the air. The head juror was already stood up. He was a young man, of no more than twenty-five, with a slight frame and glasses.

"I trust you have come to a decision?" The judge asked.

"Yes Your Honour." He replied dutifully. "Of charge one, the possession and intent to supply a class A drug, we find the defendant guilty; of charge two, the common assault of a Ms Eloisa Lopez, guilty; of charge three, the accepting of money for prostitutes, guilty; and finally of charge four, the possession of a firearm in your property." Neil placed his hand over Grace's, in a simple movement that was missed by anyone else, whilst Allie caught eye contact with Callum, and beamed.

"The defendant is sentenced to sixteen years imprisonment, and will serve at least ten before is considered for parole. After which, I will recommend that he is extradited to Spain, where he may face further charges for crimes against the person. Thank you." The judge did not hang around, and had left before many had the chance to fully absorb what had happened. A buzz rippled across the room, as Diego was cuffed and led from the courtroom, silent, with his head hung to the floor. It was a very good act of remorse, however wasn't believed by any of the officers.

"We did it!" Stevie laughed, from where she was sat, the other side of Grace and Neil. Smithy was sat next to her, and Allie noticed the proud look he was regarding Stevie with.

"The drinks are on you then, Sir!" Callum joked to Neil, who made to protest, before being silenced by Grace.

"You need to show us your appreciation for all the hard work we've put in, I'm with Callum on this one." She laughed, as the officers stood up and started filing out of the courtroom. They congregated in the hallway, shaking hands with several members of the gallery before they were left in peace.

"The Swan it is then!" Smithy called; fond of the local pub that had become synonymous with a successful case result. Allie started to make her excuses, but was quickly cut short by Callum.

"It's your last night Allie. I'm not taking no for an answer." He said sternly, facing her with a steely glint in his eye. She made a show of sighing theatrically and rolling her eyes before following the small group of officers out of the court. Callum lingered at the back of the group with her, sensing her uncertainty. "I heard about what happened." He said quietly. "Are you ok?" Allie mustered up a smile and nodded.

"Just embarrassed." She replied. "I always thought I'd got away lightly. But no!" She laughed mirthlessly. "Your past always has a habit of catching up with you. Even ten years down the line, it would appear." The pair had come to a stop at the top of the steps outside the courts.

"You've nothing to be ashamed of." Callum said, catching her eye and smiling supportively. "We all do things we regret when we're young and stupid, it's just what we make of them that matters." He added, in a bout of uncharacteristic philosophy. "You've turned yourself around – that shows so much strength."

"But so much weakness in the first place to stoop so low. I couldn't function without getting a hit, Callum." Allie said sadly. "I took drugs, I smoked, I was dependent on alcohol… do you know, that I can't remember much of those years. Or much that happened when I was a child. I totally fucked my body up." She said, with inherent bitterness.

"Allie…"

"I don't think I can have kids." She added suddenly, cutting Callum off. "How do you think it feels, as a woman, to be told that, actually, I can't do the one thing I'm put on this Earth to do? Because of eighteen months of thoughtless immature partying, I've deprived myself of having a baby. What kind of man will want to be with someone who can't do the most simple of things and bear him a child?" Allie was sobbing by now, tears freefalling down her cheeks leaving a blotchy red trail in their wake. Callum didn't know what to do; or what to say. He pulled her into a hug, and encased her tightly within his arms, holding her shaking body securely. "I'm sorry, I know I'm being ridiculous!" She sniffed, trying to breathe deeply to calm herself down.

"There would be millions of men lucky to have you." Callum admitted, after some time of silence. "You're intelligent, and beautiful and feisty…" Callum felt himself warm, embarrassed at his honestly, but at the same time, Allie's breath hitched slightly, and her sobbing body stiffened. She looked up at him, her grey eyes sparkling.

"You mean that?" She asked, her voice hoarse.

"Yes!" Callum was sure that if he didn't break the contact with the woman before him, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from kissing her. And that wasn't appropriate. Not now. She was upset, and vulnerable. And if he did decide to tell her how he felt, now that he had deciphered his confusing feelings, then it was going to be perfect. "Now, we can't have a leaving party without the leaver, can we?" Callum laughed, swiftly brushing the tears from Allie's cheeks with his thumbs.

"I'm not having a leaving party!" Allie said defiantly, just about cracking a smile.

"Whatever, we're going to the pub; it's your last day in London; therefore, it's a leaving party. Now shut up, and get going! They're going to be wondering where we are!" Callum grinned, nudging Allie with his shoulder and raising his eyebrows, daring her to challenge him.

"Fine!" She exclaimed, sighing. "Lead the way!" She added with an extravagant flourish.

By the time she and Callum had made it to the pub, Neil had been true to his word and got the first round in, and the team had taken over a table in the corner of the cosy pub, which had been decorated in a modern palette of sage greens and taupe and cream. There was a pint and an orange juice left unattended. Callum pulled out a chair for Allie, and sat down in front of the pint. Allie looked up at Neil and smiled gratefully for not including her in the bottle of red wine that Grace and Stevie were sharing.

"Are you looking forward to going home?" Grace asked, looking at Allie, once the conversation about the undercover had died down. Stevie had been excitedly telling the group about the many mishaps she'd been subjected to whilst undercover. It had been a source of much amusement to Allie watching Smithy go from red to a deeper shade of puce as he realised what Stevie had fallen victim to.

"Not as much as I thought I would be." Allie replied diplomatically. "I, uh, I've really enjoyed myself here. Learnt a lot and all that…"

"And met us!" Stevie chirped up. Allie laughed and nodded. She hadn't thought about the implications of meeting anyone other than Callum, but Stevie was right; she'd met a group of people who had made her feel so welcome, and who hadn't rejected her when they realised she wasn't cut from the same mould as most police officers. She had enjoyed spending time with them more than her team back home. They never went to the pub, and the minute the clock hit six o'clock, everyone was out of the door. There was no team spirit, and now Allie had tasted it, she had a feeling she was addicted.

"Sun Hill's nothing like Newquay. You're very lucky." She said wisely, but with a hint of remorse too.

"Quick! Change the subject before the girls get too sentimental!" Smithy laughed, draining the dregs of his pint. Allie removed herself from the conversation slightly, and allowed herself to watch the people before her. Stevie was the life and soul of the gathering, and Smithy was basking in her glow; anyone could see that. She wondered if it was plain to Stevie too. Grace and Neil on the contrary, were much quieter. She noticed them sneak surreptitious glances at each other every now and then. Allie couldn't help but think they seemed nervous. She wasn't sure if it was simply the others presence as they were folded so intimately into a corner booth, or whether there was something else going on, but either way, it gave her hope. There was something quintessentially romantic about them; and the secrecy surrounding them somehow fed the fairy tale. Callum was taking his lead of Smithy, which Allie had never noticed before. They were forever batting insults back and forth, the banter causing endless amusement. She smiled, realising that she was around people who, once she'd left, she'd well and truly miss.

"Does anyone else want another drink?" Allie asked, seeing several empty glasses around the table. It was the least she could do.

"I'll give you a hand." Grace offered, when the three men asked for another pint each. "Was everything ok earlier with Callum?" Grace asked once they were several paces from the table.

"Yeah, just a moment of weakness, but Callum sorted me out." Allie said, reassuring herself, as well as Grace.

"You and Callum, eh?" Grace chided her, with a smirk on her face. "Becoming something of a double act."

"Nah, we hated each other!" Allie said, fondly reminiscing about their history.

"Exactly, _hated_… what about now?" Grace asked.

"Now, I'm going back to Newquay, three-hundred and fifty miles away." Allie replied, shrugging, a poor attempt at nonchalance. Grace dropped the subject before they were approached by the barman.

"Ladies, what can I get you?" He asked smoothly, flinging his tea towel over his shoulder.

"Three pints and an orange juice, please." Allie replied, smiling politely.

"What would you say if I was to tell you that I was with someone?" Grace asked suddenly. Allie looked up from the bar, startled.

"Neil?"

"You know?"

"Confession time… Callum and I saw you two together a few weeks ago. I'd say that I'm happy for you." Allie smiled supportively. "It's serious?" Grace nodded, biting down on her lower lip nervously.

"Neil spoke to Meadows about us a few weeks ago… without me knowing…" Allie resisted the urge to gush about how adorable that was. She thought that it showed commitment and genuine affection. "And we decided earlier in the week that we didn't want to hide it anymore. He suggested telling you all tonight." Allie realised that this was why they were appearing so anxious – they didn't know how people were going to react.

"It's only that lot!" Allie laughed affectionately, glancing over her shoulder. "They're harmless. And even if they weren't, it's clear you're serious – it's sweet." Grace recoiled slightly at being called 'sweet'. She supposed it was meant as a compliment, but it was a long time since she'd been called anything vaguely like that!

"That'll be £14.50 please, darlin'" The barman said, placing down the last of the drinks, interrupting Allie and Grace, the previous of who slid some cash across the table before picking up two pints and walking back to the table. She passed one to Smithy, and the other to Neil, unable to shake the desire to pass one to Callum just so they had the excuse to brush hands. She smirked at her childish, and slightly clichéd thoughts, reminiscent of a rom-com; before being swept into the conversation. She was aware of Grace and Neil talking quietly amongst themselves, and Grace shot a worried look across the table. Allie responded by smiling encouragingly, and nodding almost imperceptibly by way of reassurance.

"Whilst you're all here, I'd like to say…"

"You're proud of us, and all our hard work." Smithy interrupted the Inspector, his mouth governed by the alcohol in his system. "…And would like you thank us for our time and dedication to the case." He finished. Stevie clamped his mouth shut with her hand, much to the amusement of the team.

"As much as I am… this was on a more personal note." He paused and looked to Grace for courage. She smiled and slipped her hand over his on top of the table. Smithy double took and Stevie squealed loudly, her eyes wide.

"Oh-my-God!" She laughed. "How long's this been going on for?"

"A couple of months…" Grace replied, unable to stop herself from beaming. "The DCI knows – we just didn't want to keep it a secret for any longer."

"Congratulations." Allie smiled sincerely, watching the couple relax slightly. Neil squeezed Grace's hand and dropped it below the table, so it was resting on Grace's thigh. They shared a shy smile, the realisation setting in that the team had been much less judgemental than they had feared.

"Just watch the favouritism, Sir." Callum said, waggling his eyebrows in mock seriousness. "We'll be looking!" He added, squinting dramatically. The conversation continued for several hours yet, until Smithy looked at his watch, shocked that it was nearly eleven o'clock. The six officers all stood up from the table, Grace and Neil locked at the hand, much to everyone's delight. They lingered outside the pub for a second, all loitering awkwardly, looking at Allie, trying to find the right words.

"On behalf of everyone at Sun Hill…" Neil started formally, looking at Allie. "It's been a pleasure working with you, thank you for everything." He smiled, holding out his hand. The pair shook hands firmly, and Allie gave Grace a quick hug.

"Good luck." The older woman smiled. "Keep in touch." She added. Allie nodded, pinching herself to stop herself from crying. She always had been too sentimental! "Bye!"

"Night!" Allie called after the retreating couple, before turning to Stevie, Smithy and Callum.

"You can always take Max's job!" Stevie joked, as she and Allie embraced. Whilst Allie didn't personally know the infamous DS Carter, she'd heard plenty of stories and laughed. "You'll have to come up and stay with me sometime. You've got my number, there are no excuses!" Stevie added, giving Allie one last squeeze.

"You look after her!" Allie smiled, turning to Smithy. "You're too prone to being overcome by a hero complex!" She laughed, rebuking Stevie, pointing her finger at her accusingly. Smithy laughed and pulled her into a brief hug.

"Come on, we should be getting back." Stevie said matter-of-factly, linking her arm through Smithy's and giving him no choice but to follow her, as she hissed something about him needing to be more subtle. Allie rolled her eyes and laughed. She knew what Stevie's intentions had been. She looked up at Callum, who was avoiding her gaze.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Callum asked suddenly, not ready to say goodbye just yet. He and Allie walked in silence, punctuated only by Allie's heels and the occasional car driving past. She looked up at him several times, unsure of what to say, her mind filled only with the awkwardness and anticipation of their quietness. Even when their relationship was fuelled by dislike, they managed to find something to talk about. Without talking about where they were headed, in half an hour they had made it to Allie's door.

"This is me…" She said quietly, supporting herself on the iron gate. Callum stopped walking but didn't say anything, instead focusing his attention on scuffing his shoes against the pavement, his actions mirroring those of a petulant teenager. Having his hands stuffed deep into his coat pockets didn't help either. "I'm going to miss you." Allie admitted; realising that maybe he wasn't going to be the most mature about the situation. "I know we didn't get off on the best…"

"It's been nice to meet you, Allie." Callum interrupted; his voice monotone and cold. "Good luck with everything back at Newquay. Maybe I'll see you around if you come up and stay with Stevie." Allie stepped back slightly, recoiling at the rawness of Callum's words that hit her with immense force.

"Is that it?"

"What do you want me to say?" He retaliated, anger staining his words. "You're going back to Newquay, Al; anything I say will just hurt you." Allie stepped towards him, and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, before brushing the glossy mark from his skin, remaining close enough to feel his breath against her hair. He looked down at her, scrutinising the woman who was unable to look at him. Placing his finger under her chin, he lifted her face so their eyes met. He didn't have to _say_ anything. He leant towards her; his actions agonisingly slow, before his lips met hers for the briefest of seconds. He pulled away quickly, as if the action had burnt him. "Goodnight Allie." He murmured, delicately grazing his finger against her cheek, before turning and wandering aimlessly into the night. She was glad not every goodbye was so painful.


	20. Epilogue

_A huge final chapter for you all - my way of saying thank you for the super lovely reviews I've been given that have kept me going on this story. I can't say how much I appriciate you taking the time to let me know what you think! Thank you for sticking with me - I can't believe it's been eighteen months in the making! Em x  
_

* * *

**E1**

**Epilogue**

"I would, uh; well I'd appreciate if this was kept quiet." She said into the phone, butterflies beating hard against her stomach at the thought of the offer that had been put in front of her several weeks before hand. She could hardly say no, but it had been insisted that she take some time to think it through thoroughly. It did, after all, require her to walk away from the life she knew, in the town she was born in. She hadn't seen in this way, for her, it was a chance to leave her past behind, and start afresh; in a city that had been the focus of her dreams since she had left university.

"Of course." She was reassured. "I'll see you on Monday." That left her just six days. In those six days, she packed the majority of her belongings into storage, apart from the essentials, and said her goodbyes – none of which were as poignant as those she experienced six months previously.

Allie arrived in London the Saturday before she started at Sun Hill as the new Detective Sergeant. In the months after she left, Stevie had reported of DS Carter's fall from grace, where he'd dabbled in drugs and even gone as far as compromising a case. This had climaxed in a call from Neil asking if she'd consider a transfer. The rest, of course, was history.

Allie had booked into a holiday apartment overlooking the Thames, bringing four weeks of certainty that she'd live in luxury, however without food and water because of the extortionate rent! As a result, her first day was spent looking at yet more overpriced and under-equipped apartments. It wasn't how she'd envisaged spending her first day in the city, instead she had thought about visiting Westfields, and blowing her apartment deposit on shoes and clothes that she didn't really need. To console herself, that afternoon she immersed herself in the hub of culture that was Covent Garden, a square of bustling city culture that quenched her every desire of metropolitan life, where she contented her need to spend with eclectic vintage pieces for her new home.

As the evening drew in, the thick woolly scarf and coat she'd left in that morning were no longer enough to keep the chill from her body, and so she grabbed a coffee from a street vender, before making her way back to the apartment, feeling the city come alive, just as she was used to curling up on the sofa, perhaps with a good book, or more likely a glitzy rom-com. She couldn't help but feel like she was the protagonist in her own romantic comedy, she'd had the trials and tribulations, and was rising to the stars despite her setbacks; she had the best friend in Stevie; and as much as she hated to admit it, she had the guy with whom she was crossed in love.

Later that evening, Allie wrapped herself up until she could hardly get her coat over her arms, and she resembled something like the Michelin Man. She left her apartment and made the trek across the river, to the apartment block where Stevie lived. She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled a number that she'd become very familiar with over the past six months.

"Hey." Stevie picked up her phone quickly. From the ground, Allie looked up to Stevie's living room window.

"Look outside." Allie demanded, forgetting about all pleasantries. She was bouncing from one foot to the other with a maniacal grin on her face; she hadn't been this excited for a really long time.

"What?" Stevie repeated, confused. She started walking towards the window, certain she must have misheard Allie.

"Go to your window. Look down." Allie repeated, a little slower, but with impatience tinging her words. She could see movement before she could see Stevie's small figure poke between the curtains.

"Oh my God!" She squealed, pointing down at Allie who was laughing, unaware of the strange looks passers were giving her. "Hang on! I'm coming down!" Within what felt like seconds, the front door to the block was thrown open and Stevie raced towards Allie encasing her in a tight embrace. "Why? Since when… How long?" She asked, her sentences all falling into one jumbled mess. "Come in. It's freezing!" She added, before Allie could reply.

The two women climbed the stairs to Stevie's apartment, and Stevie disappeared into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on, before instructing Allie to give explanation to her sudden materialisation from the sticks. "I've got a job." She started mysteriously.

"But… policing was your dream." Stevie reasoned from the kitchen, rattling around with mugs and coffee jars. Allie waited until Stevie carried through the two mugs of steaming liquid before carrying on.

"Say hello, to Sun Hill's new Detective Sergeant." Allie laughed. Stevie's mouth dropped open, and she blinked gormlessly several times. "Neil rang up a few weeks ago, it was just after Max left and he offered me a transfer. I start on Monday."

"That's amazing – congratulations!" Stevie grinned, genuinely happy for the woman before her. "We're work buddies!" She shrieked excitedly. They chatted for a while about the chances of such an opportunity – how it was such good luck and how they, the two feistiest Detective Sergeant's in the Met, were going to bang the world, or maybe just the city, to rights.

"No one knows." Allie said suddenly, remembering it was the world's best kept secret.

"_No one_?" Stevie asked carefully.

"No, not even Callum!" Allie laughed, seeing right through Stevie, who at least has the good grace to blush at her transparency. "So, come on… what've I missed?" Allie asked. Stevie looked thoughtful for a moment, taking a sip from her coffee.

"Neil and Grace are still going strong. They're so good together. She's the perfect antidote for his stresses and he makes her so happy. You should see them together… they're so professional, and yet at the same time, when they catch each other's eye or whatever…" Stevie trailed off, smiling. "You know some couples just… work?" Allie nodded; they'd always restored her faith in a world where divorce rates were rocketing. "Neil's taking her to Bruges in a couple of weeks – between me and you, I think he might propose." Stevie added, in a hushed voice, despite the fact they were alone. "He's been making all these secret trips out at lunch. They always used to go out together, but he went through a phase of making these elaborate excuses about why she can't go with him!"

"Awh!" Allie cooed. "That's so romantic!"

"What else…" Stevie thought aloud.

"You and a certain Inspector?" Allie prompted, raising her eyebrows cheekily.

"Neil's spoken for though!" Stevie replied, laughing. Allie rolled her eyes and grinned, but didn't dignify her with a correction. "Smithy and I are… good." She smiled shyly. It was one of the only times Allie had seen her looking so introverted.

"Is that all I'm getting?" Allie asked, in mock outrage, dissatisfied at the lack of gossip.

"Well... there's not much to say." Stevie shrugged. "We had a meal with our parents a couple of weeks ago."

"Your parents and his parents… at the same time?" Allie asked.

"Yeah!" Stevie laughed. "I cooked too!"

"That was… brave!" Allie grinned. "Or incredably stupid!"

"It was quite good actually. I didn't burn the food," She sounded surprised and impressed with herself. "…so his parents think he's with a girl who can provide for him, and he helped me in the kitchen, so my parents think that he's going to look after me." Stevie replied. "And they all got on; my dad and his dad both served in the Navy in the sixties and seventies, so they had common ground, and as ex-military wives, mum had something to talk to Janet about."

"If you get on with the in-laws you've got nothing to worry about!" Allie gushed excitedly.

"I didn't actually think that things would work out after we went back to work." Stevie admitted. "Reality's got in the way a few times before, so I don't know what's different now. To be meeting the parents is…" Stevie couldn't think of an apt word that described quite how happy she was with Smithy. They'd been going out on dates several times a week, and staying in together with a film and takeaway whenever else their shifts would allow it. A few weeks ago, Smithy had tentatively suggested her staying the night, and whilst it wasn't the first time they had… Stevie felt herself blush with her thought train; smiling coyly; it was the first time one or other of them hadn't made their excuses and spent the night alone in their respective homes. Waking up cocooned in his arms, with the intent of lying in their haven all day, had made her feel safe and secure, and dare she think it, loved. It was the first time she'd allowed herself to think of them, as a couple, further into the future than the following week.

"So, is it luurrrve?" Allie asked, breaking the pensive silence. Stevie didn't answer straight away, but looked down at her feet, chewing hard on her lower lip.

"We've not, he's not said… y'ano… yet." Stevie blustered, a pink glow gracing her cheeks yet again. "But I think… I think I do." She admitted quietly.

"I know it's not my place, but from what I saw of how protective he was of you during the undercover, I think he does too – even if he didn't know it at the time!" Allie replied honestly. "I think Sun Hill must have been hit by Cupid's arrow – you and Smithy, Grace and Neil… I wonder who's next?" Allie laughed speculatively.

"I think I've got a good idea…" Stevie supposed mysteriously. At this, Allie's heart quickened slightly, her mind focusing on the implicit that was dripping from her words. Did that mean…? "Callum's not been the same since you left… _what happened _with the two of you after you left the pub?" Allie realised that this was a conversation that had never been broached by Stevie before now.

"He didn't say two words to me the whole way back to mine. And then he just went all… cold. Said that it was nice to meet me, and good luck; he was more formal than Neil had been." Allie reminisced sadly.

"That's it?" Stevie interrupted, unable to keep the outrage from her voice. She'd expected tempestuous declarations of undying love and Callum pleading, begging even, for Allie to reconsider going home… well maybe not quite. He was, after all, still Callum Stone.

"I got annoyed with him!" Allie laughed mirthlessly. "Asked him if 'that was it'." Her words had haunted her for weeks after she left. One of the last things she'd said had been in frustration, and after all he'd done for her, that had been wrong. "But… I was going home. I don't think he knew what to say. So… he kissed me." She admitted. "It barely happened it was so fleeting." Allie assured the shocked Stevie before her. "But oh my God, it made some part or other of my dreams for months!" She added, screwing her face up, seemingly ashamed. Stevie had nothing to say, but pulled her into a hug. "I don't know how he's going to react to me being back." Allie sighed sadly. She wanted to say that she knew it'd all be sweetness and light; that he'd love the surprise, and in his shock maybe he'd ask her out on a date. Experience of the Sergeant reigned in her imagination before it ran away unchecked.

Monday came, after spending Sunday with Stevie, who had insisted on living the 'high life' in her apartment. She'd helped Allie unpack the few possessions she'd brought and the rest of the day had been spent working their way through several Friends box sets, whilst eating too much chocolate after finding out that they were just thirty seconds from Tesco Express. Allie had mused that at least where she used to live, the walk to the shops had been enough to burn some of the calories the chocolate possessed.

Allie had set her alarm at 6.00, knowing that she'd need a couple of hours to do her hair, and change several times before she was happy to walk out the door. After much pouting before her mirror, she'd decided to leave her hair in the loose curls they naturally fell in, but was still undecided on what to wear. She'd tried on two dresses and a skirt, and was now in a pair of dark indigo jeans. Eventually, Allie settled on a simple white t-shirt that was scooped at the neck, and loosely fitting, billowing from her small frame. Teamed with a blazer, some black boots with a chunky heel and her signature handbag, Allie decided that effortless chic was the way to go. This way, she hoped she wouldn't feel either over or under dressed; and in the boots and jeans, she knew her legs looked elongated and slender – a confidence boost if ever there was one!

The walk to work took her just ten minutes, and in the cool breeze, she was glad it wasn't any more. The streets were busier than what would have been considered a good day on the Newquay high street and dodging the many high flying professionals on their way to The City and Docklands took skill that she was sure she'd perfect in the coming months. They all seemed to be on a mission; walking faster than she could even consider in the heels she was wearing, despite the fact that many of the women were wearing stacked wedges that she'd be tottering all over the pavement in.

Allie arrived at the station ten minutes before her shift was due to start, and made a beeline for the welcome desk. She didn't recognise the officer stood behind.

"DS Allie Trewin." She introduced herself formally, smiling. "It's my first day." She added, apprehension tinging her words. It didn't matter that she'd been here before; she'd been head hunted. That meant that Neil expected good things from her.

"I'll call DI Manson down." The young officer replied politely. "If you'd like to take a seat." She added, gesturing to the seats lining the far wall of reception. As Allie sat down, the woman called upstairs, her cockney accent making Allie smile – it made some change to the Westcountry accent that she was so accustomed to.

"Allie!" Neil came down the stairs, and poked his head around the door. Allie jumped up and stepped towards him, shaking his stretched out hand firmly. "It's lovely to see you again." He said sincerely.

"And you." Allie replied, following him up the stairs to CID.

"How are you feeling about this?" Neil asked, before buzzing them through to the office.

"Uh… nervous!" Allie admitted. "It's different being here as an actual, real Sergeant! Before I could screw up and bugger off back to Newquay…" She laughed. By this point Grace had joined them, the only other officer in CID. Allie said nothing, but had to stop herself from smiling.

"You won't screw up." Grace assured her, after the pair had hugged briefly.

"Don't talk too soon!" Allie chuckled.

"This is your desk," Neil said, stood behind a chair that was before an all but empty desk. Allie couldn't wait to put some personal touches on it – some photos of her new life, and maybe the good luck bear that her mother had given her when she got into Oxford; it had after all, kept her on the straight and narrow this far.

"Thank you!" Allie beamed, excitedly bouncing towards the desk, placing her coat over the chair, and her bag underneath. She looked at the new laptop and wondered how long it'd stay finger-print free, and then her attention moved to the empty paper tray. She raised her eyebrows, and decided that instant she never wanted to see it looking like that again. At least then she didn't have any pressure to keep up the false pretences.

"And this is your health and safety booklet, and induction." Neil dropped a couple of booklets into her paper tray. Allie grinned. It looked better already – now she just needed some case files strewn artfully across the remaining space and she'd feel like a fully-fledged member of the team. "I know it's dull, but if you get time then can you try and complete it by the end of the day?"

"Of course." Allie replied respectfully. She glanced at the clock. It wasn't quite 8am. "Am I ok just to have a quick look around – re-familiarise myself?"

"Feel free." Neil smiled. "I'll be in my office if you need me, DCI Meadows and The Super have asked to see you at 8.30, so if you can be back by then…" Because of the contact she'd had with the station, and all the officers, Allie hadn't realised that she would have the formal meetings. Again. She felt vaguely ill at the thought.

"Ok. I'll uh, be back for then." She said, trying to remind herself to be rational: they must like her; otherwise, they'd have suggested someone else for the job. "See you, uh, later." She added, before disappearing from CID and carrying straight down the hall. She ventured past the toilets, and the CSE office and laboratory, before coming to a stairwell. She wondered downstairs, smiling at the uniform officers who she passed, some very definitely at the end of the night shift, others coming in slightly more bright eyed. She walked aimlessly, following the snaking corridors, past the vending machines, through the corridor of interview rooms and towards custody. Only she didn't quite get there. Part way along the hallway, Allie was distracted. She peered through the window, into an office with two computers, a male office at one, and a female officer at another. She backtracked a few steps and knocked on the door, emblazoned with _'Sergeant's Office: Sgt C. Stone & Sgt J. Masters'_. Her heart was pounding almost as loudly as her knock. The female, she presumed Sergeant Masters, called for her to come in. Callum hadn't look up from his paperwork. Allie cleared her throat and fidgeted from one foot to the next.

"Can I help?" Sergeant Masters asked, impatiently enough to snap Allie from her awkward reverie.

"Ah! Sorry, I just, uh, I wanted to introduce myself…" By this point, Callum's head had snapped up from his work.

"Allie!" He said, startled. Jo looked between the pair.

"You know each other?" She asked, frowning, looking Allie up and down. There was something distinctly familiar about her; she just couldn't put her finger on what, or rather who it was.

"She was involved in the Gonzales case." Callum said vaguely, not hiding his shock very well.

"_She._" Jo repeated, waiting to be introduced.

"Yeah – sorry, right… Jo, this is DS Trewin, Newquay. Al, Sergeant Masters." Callum said awkwardly. He'd stood up by this point, unable to take his eyes from the blonde in front of him, who if he admitted it, looked even more attractive than his memory gave her credit.

"I'll, uh, leave you two to it." Jo said, realising from the looks passing between Callum and Allie, she was very unwelcome in the office. "It was nice to meet you Allie." She added as she squeezed past the blonde, who was rooted to the spot in the door way.

For the first few minutes Callum and Allie were alone, they were unable to say anything, each drinking the appearance of the other they didn't think they'd see again.

"You're back." Callum said suddenly, blatantly stating the obvious.

"Yeah… It would appear so!" Allie laughed.

"Why." He asked, abruptly. Allie stepped into the threshold of the office and closed the door. In that second, Allie realised that keeping it a secret wasn't such a good idea.

"Neil… Max… new job." Allie mumbled incoherently. She swallowed hard, and looked up from the floor. "After Max left, Neil called me and asked if I'd be interested in relocating." She repeated, feeling guilty at the look of hurt that momentarily passed through Callum's eyes.

"Congratulations." Callum replied, with ice in his voice that made Allie shiver. "Permanent?" He asked.

"Can you not string a sentence together?" Allie asked, suddenly angry with him. It wasn't supposed to be like this! He was supposed to pull her into a spontaneous hug, insist that they catch up during their break, or maybe after work. She felt like he couldn't care less that she was back. Maybe, contrary to what Stevie said, he had moved on.

"Is it permanent?" Callum repeated, his tone mocking.

"Yes." Allie replied, her voice harsh. "And I thought you might be happy for me, but obviously not. The Callum that I got to know has obviously buggered off and been replaced with the idiot that I first met." She added bitterly.

"The Callum you got to know would have quite liked to hear from you once or twice in the six months you've been gone." He shot back, his voice raised, anger staining his words. "The Callum you got to know would have thought you might have wanted to tell him you were in the city before your first shift back."

"But… I..." Allie stalled. "You could have rung me." She said lamely. She'd wanted to ring him on several occasions, and had even got as far as dialling, but hung up after several rings.

"And I am happy for you, Allie. Really happy – I wouldn't begrudge you that." Allie raised her eyebrows – he sounded anything but 'happy' about her return.

"Whatever." She muttered, shaking her head, not caring how petulant she sounded. "Maybe I'll have the happy pleasure of working with you sometime. Or maybe not." She finished angrily, blinking the sting of tears away as she stormed from the office, determined to hold it together, especially before her big meet and greet with the Top Brass.

Allie stormed through the station, not exchanging the same smiles she did with her fellow officers as she had done earlier. Stopping before the doors into CID she took several deep breaths, composed herself, and stepped into the office.

"Allie, good timing." Neil said, stepping away from where he'd been talking to the rest of the team and towards her. He introduced her to the many plain clothed officers in the room, most of whom she recognised even if she couldn't put names to faces. "I'll be in a meeting with Meadows and Heaton until about ten, so if I'm needed urgently, then you know where I'll be, otherwise, DS Moss, you're in charge." Neil motioned for Allie to follow him, and he led her through a smaller corridor, which was lined with storage cupboards. At the end of the hall, he came to an office with glass walls; partially obscured with blinds. Inside the office, Allie could see two older males sat, deep in conversation. Neil knocked on the door and waited for it to be opened.

"Neil, Allie, come in." Jack said in his typically brusque northern accent. Allie lingered awkwardly by the door. "Allie, we'd just like to formally welcome you back to the station." He added, shaking her hand, smiling.

"I'm looking forward to working with you. Your work on the E1 case was invaluable." Heaton added, standing from his chair to shake her hand.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Jack added.

"Thank you, Sir." Allie replied formally. She had never been the most apt at awkward social situations. The concept of rank was one she respected, but didn't completely understand because it seemed to turn perfectly respectable, educated people into complete quivering messes. She supposed that hierarchy was unavoidable – after all, everyone had their lot in life. Neil glanced at the clock on the wall above Allie's head.

"I mentioned to Smithy that you'd be popping down to the uniform briefing at some point so he can introduce you to the rabble. I'm sure Stevie will show you down." Neil said, effectively dismissing her from the office. She smiled; gratefulness and relief rushing from every pore in her body.

Stevie knocked on the door to the briefing room, and heard the authorial voice Smithy commanded his troops in go silent. She stepped into the room, all eyes on her, and the new girl behind her. "Sorry to interrupt, whilst you're all together, DI Manson wanted to introduce our newest member of CID." Stevie explained. She glanced at Smithy for the go ahead, but was unable to miss the reproach that was passing from Allie to Callum. As far as she knew, the last time they'd seen each other, they'd kissed. What had she missed?

"Everyone," In Stevie's lack of inability to talk, Smithy took over. "This is DS Allie Trewin, she was involved in the E1 case a few months ago, and so some of you might recognise her from around the station. DS Trewin has transferred from Newquay, Cornwall, where she has seven years' experience in the force." Allie tore her eyes from Callum's and looked around the room. The majority of the officers were young; maybe in their mid to late twenties. She was sure they made for a livelier bunch than the middle aged men who she was used to working with. "I trust you'll look after her, and treat her gently for the first few hours at least!" Smithy laughed, evoking a chuckle from the room at large. Allie nearly managed a smile, but was preoccupied with trying to work out the look Callum was giving her, before she followed Stevie from the room.

"What the hell was that?" Stevie demanded, after taking several steps from the briefing room.

"What?" Allie asked, feigning nonchalance, despite having a good idea about what Stevie was asking her about.

"_That_ between you and Callum!"

"Nothing." She replied defensively, looking away from Stevie's hard gaze.

"That was not 'nothing'." Stevie retorted, her hands on her hips. "The last I knew you kissed. That was not the kind of look that passes between star crossed lovers."

"Well maybe we're not lovers; star crossed, or otherwise!" Allie said, her voice rising as she felt her heart twinge at her words.

"Allie, what's happened?" Stevie probed gently. Allie slumped against the wall to support herself, and thought about her words carefully in her head. She opened her mouth, but was interrupted by the onslaught of officers as they were released from the briefing. Allie heard snippets of conversations as they bustled past, each looking at her with scrutiny.

"I heard…"

"Did you see the look between her and Stone?"

"He looked like he'd seen a ghost."

"Yeah, the ghost of officer's past - Emma!"

Allie recoiled from the words that were surrounding her. She hadn't realised that what had passed between her and Callum had been so obvious. She also hadn't realised that her likeness to this 'Emma' was going to be her defining trait at Sun Hill. Stevie took hold of her at the elbow and dragged her back into the briefing room, much to the surprise of Callum and Smithy, who had been making their way to the door.

"Right, you've got two choices." Stevie said, looking between Callum and Allie. "You can do this the easy way or the hard way." Both officers turned away from each other almost imperceptibly.

"Fine. We'll do it the hard way then." Stevie sighed, rolling her eyes. "Callum, are you pleased to see Allie."

"Yes, but…"

"Allie, are you pleased to see Callum." Stevie interrupted, pointing a silencing finger at Callum, who promptly closed his mouth.

"Well, yeah."

"Right. Good. Do you wish you'd stayed in contact?" Stevie asked, not directing the question at either Allie or Callum. Allie turned slightly, looking at Stevie meekly. How pathetic was this?

"Yes." She replied in a quiet voice. Callum didn't say anything, but it didn't go unnoticed the fleeting glance he shot at Allie.

"Callum?" Stevie probed, aware that he probably felt his masculinity was at stake. He muttered something incoherent but had turned to face Allie. "Do you need Smithy and I in here to guide you through the rest and stop World War Three breaking out?" Stevie asked, increasingly feeling like she was intruding on a private moment.

"I think we're ok." Allie smiled at her friend gratefully. "Thank you." She added quietly.

"I don't care what happens, but in five minutes I want you to come out having talked. Actually spoken. A real conversation." She said sternly, giving the pair one last look before she left the room, with Smithy just behind her; who leant in and whispered something in her ear. She giggled, and looked at the floor.

"I wonder what he said." Allie wondered aloud.

"I don't think we need to know!" Callum laughed, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"On second thoughts, maybe not!" Allie agreed, pulling a face. "It sounds like it's going well." She added fondly. Callum nodded mutely. "And Grace and Neil."

"Yes… and them." The Sergeant replied awkwardly. He wasn't sure where this was going. Allie, on the other hand, was cursing herself inwardly. For a second they had been taking baby steps towards returning to some sort of normalcy, until she'd gone and put her awkward size five foot in her mouth, bringing the atmosphere crumbling down around them.

"Uh…" Allie opened her mouth several times in an attempt to make mundane conversation, about the weather, maybe, or even the décor.

"We can't do this here." Callum said boldly. "We could… catch up tonight?" He asked tentatively, looking genuinely unsure of himself. Allie couldn't help but find it completely endearing.

"Yeah." She smiled. "I'd like that. How about… I cook." She suggested, realising she was just as unsure as him. They were stepping into unchartered waters. Callum was about to object, when she silenced him. "I insist. My way of apologising about not telling you I was coming back."

"Ok." He agreed, after some consideration. "I over reacted earlier. I didn't mind_ that _much you didn't tell me." Allie knew he was lying. Of course he cared that she didn't tell him: she'd have been fuming if the situation had been reversed. They were supposed to be friends. Hell, they were more than that; and they both knew it.

"Seven?" Allie suggested.

"Ok." Callum smiled, nodding once, before he smiled tentatively, unsure about what to say.

"I ought to, uh… I've already skived off half the morning." Allie said, breaking the silence. "Not the best first impression!" She grinned, before excusing herself from the clumsiness that had engulfed the meetings room.

Allie had got home at six, and realised that she had grossly underestimated the amount of panic time she needed, on top of producing a meal, and getting ready. How much effort was required, she wondered as she chopped some vegetables. Was this just a catch up, or was it an apology. Or was it, dare she think it, a date? Allie didn't allow herself to ponder on her last thought for long and instead contented busied her mind with cutting the cubes of vegetables into equal squares.

After throwing the curry into the still-warming oven, Allie left the kitchen scattered with jars and bags and made a bee-line for her room. For the second time that day, Allie stood in front of her wardrobe and looked in despair at her 'lack of clothes'. Truth be told, she had too many. Maybe that was the problem. After much decision making, pondering over the pros and cons of different outfits, Allie chose a pair of wine coloured skinny jeans, a black vest top, with a sheer black shrug over the top. She slipped her feet into some black wedges and turned her attention to her make up. She dabbed some concealer under her eyes, and re-applied the mascara that had slipped from her lashes during the day. The final touches were adding a rosy glow to her cheeks, and a clear slick of gloss over her lips. Her long blonde hair still fell in loose curls, which she pinned a few strands back with a delicate silver grip. She looked deep into the mirror, and wiped a stray streak of gloss from just below her lips, before pouting slightly. Satisfied, Allie was saved by the bell from preening and fussing for any longer.

"Hello?" Allie spoke into the receiver.

"Hey, it's me." Allie couldn't help but laugh and the social norm that was introducing oneself as 'me'. She buzzed him up, and opened the door. On the first floor, it took Callum no time at all to reach the apartment. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a striped shirt. Allie's heart quickened as she realised that he too had made an effort. And he didn't half scrub up well. She smiled in spite of herself, something which grew when she saw that in one hand, he was carrying a posh looking soft drink, she didn't think anyone else would have been so thoughtful; and in his other, he was – slightly awkwardly – holding a bouquet of gorgeous flowers. "You look… you look lovely." Callum said, almost without thinking about the implications of his words. Allie blushed profusely and looked at the floor. "I thought these might brighten up the place." He explained quickly, passing the arrangement to Allie.

"They're beautiful." She smiled, inhaling their sweet scent. "Thank you." She placed them in an empty vase which had come as part of the furnishings, before filling it with water, and moving it into the living room, putting them centre stage on the coffee table.

"Is there anything I can do?" Callum asked politely, having left the glass bottle on the kitchen worktop.

"I think it's all under control." Allie replied automatically, not intending on letting him help, even if there was something for him to do. "Drink?" She asked "I got some beer in if you want some?"

"You didn't have to do that!" Callum protested. "I'm fine with water." He insisted.

"No one else will drink it, you may as well!" Allie laughed, going to the fridge and picking a bottle out regardless of Callum's ministrations. "Mind you, I don't know what it'll taste like." She added, looking sceptically at the bronze liquid as the smell hit her. No matter how many years went by, it still reminded her of her misspent youth.

"It's a lovely place." Callum commented, looking out of the floor-length windows at the Thames. The sky, a deep indigo, provided a striking backdrop to the amber, cream and white lights that decorated the sky line.

"It's an expensive place!" Allie laughed. "I won't be here long though, only a few more weeks and then hopefully I'll be able to rent something a bit less extravagant." She explained, taking a seat on the plush leather sofa.

"Any thoughts on where?"

"I quite like some apartments in Tower Hamlets if I'm being practical about the time it'll take me to get to work, and the price of rent… but if my heart wins then I've seen somewhere in Islington too." They proceeded to talk about the benefits of the different boroughs in Central London, and enjoyed the meal that Allie had thrown together in somewhat record timing. They caught up on each other's past few months, and reminisced about their time on the E1 case, with the conversation straying onto the status of Neil and Grace, and Stevie and Smithy. Towards the end of the evening, the conversation lulled several times, however it was quickly revived, for fear that once lost, it was lost forever.

"How was your first day back?" Callum asked, realising they'd covered every topic but.

"It got better." Allie smiled. "Uniform seem like a tight knit bunch." She commented. "Especially in their opinion of me!" She added dryly.

"What?"

"No one missed my likeness to Emma."

"I heard a few of the lads thinking about trying their luck, if you know what I mean." Callum said, trying his best to appear in light spirits about this. Truth be told, he'd just wanted to knock Nate and Ben into next week after overhearing their conversation.

"Urgh." Allie blanched, repulsed by the thought. "Testosterone fuelled, over groomed constables." She laughed, shaking her head. "Not my cup of tea."

"What is your 'cup of tea' then?" Callum challenged, possibly fuelled by Dutch courage, and possibly by how comfortable he was in Allie's company, the suddenness of Callum's question changed the mood in the room inexplicably. In a split second, a million words raced through Allie's mind. It was so long since she'd felt anything remotely un-platonic for anyone, and she didn't want to let Callum go. And she might never get a readymade opportunity like this again. Subconsciously, Allie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Tall…" She was actually going to do this. "…dark hair… blue eyes if I'm being picky… a bit rough around the edges." She said breathily, her cheeks flaring, embarrassed at what she was revealing. "Willing to take a bullet for me." Allie smiled slightly, but Callum stayed silent as he moved slightly closer to Allie. "You?"

"I think you know." Callum replied. "Tall, blonde and beautiful – intelligent, feisty, funny…" He added, for good measure, reeling off as many adjectives as he could to describe the woman before him. The pair looked at each other, scrutinising their every move. Callum leant towards Allie, his movements agonisingly slow. Allie shuffled towards him, and ran her fingers from his jaw to the nape of his neck. Instilled with confidence at the boldness of Allie's movement, he closed the gap between them, and captured Allie's lips in a kiss that wasn't bittersweet, like last time, but just sweet. Allie broke the contact, but rested her forehead against his, and laced their fingers together.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was back." She whispered.

"I'm sorry you had to go in the first place." Callum replied, smiling. "And I'm sorry that because you did have to go, I was..." He wasn't able to finish before Allie's lips closed his in a more passionate embrace that sought to atone them both for their wrongs; actions, after all, did speak louder than words.


End file.
